Elements of doubt
by JEBS
Summary: Something’s trying to kill more than just Deans’ love life.
1. Water

**Chapter 1: Water**

**Disclaimer: Don't own them just play with them.**

**To anyone who's still out there; Sorry. I know this has taken for ever, for which I can only apologies. When I started writing this I was waiting for a work visa to get sorted, so I had plenty of time. Obviously the visa got sorted and I now have no time at all. Which is why this is taking so long, but it's a new year so I'm on a mission and actually getting somewhere. Plus to everyone's relief I've now got a very lovely Beta/Husband/Grammar Nazi, so all the chapters have been update. **

**Set straight after the second season episode Born under a bad sign.**

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"I've got to say it Sammy, this place has definitely got some possibilities." Grinned Dean Winchester as he lent back against the side of the bridge, his elbows coming to rest on the railing as he smiled back at the college girl who had been staring at him on and off for the last ten minutes from behind her text book. The girl blushed pushing her two friends into fits of giggle and making Dean's grin widen.

Sam just rolled his eyes continuing to stare out along the river as the sun slowly began to dip behind the trees lining the bank.

"Whatever, Dean" Said Sam

It was funny how he could survive seven days straight of being _possessed_ with his sanity reasonably intact but three days straight stuck in a car with his injured and irritable brother had all but pushed him over the edge.

Sam pushed himself up off the railing and stretched his back trying to relieve some of the tension he was feeling.

_O.K so maybe that wasn't entirely true. _ The possession and its aftermath had taken a heavy toll on both of them, and neither of them had fully dealt with it yet. Not that Sam could remember all of it, but what he did remember he would rather forget. They had been driving with the hammer down ever since they left Bobby's, trying to put as much distance between themselves and Sam's actions as they could just in case some of the other hunters decided to investigate Josh Wandells' death a little more closely.

Add to that the fact that the gunshot wound to Deans shoulder, kept his brother from driving and things were bound to be tense. Driving was like a drug to his brother and it wasn't a good idea to let him go into withdrawal. Sam still didn't know how Dean had made it all the way to Bobby's in his current condition. He was one stubborn son of a bitch.

Leaning back against the railing Sam glanced over to Dean's latest conquests and nearly laughed. Sorority girls and going by the expensive clothes and immaculate hair, rich ones at that. After four years at Stanford Sam could recognise the type anywhere, these girls would eat his brother alive, but at least it would keep Dean occupied, and it could be fun to watch.

"Hey Sam, do you think they would take pity on my wounds?" asked Dean still exchanging glances with the three girls.

" How are you going to explain the gunshot wound?" Queried Sam, truth be told Dean still looked like he'd gone five rounds with Mike Tyson but at least that was easier to explain than the large hole in his shoulder.

"I'll tell them the truth." Dean grinned wickedly. "I got shot saving a damsel in distress."

Sam groaned.

Dean had just pushed off the railing with every intention of going to talk to the three women, when a child's scream ripped through the air. Both brothers whipped around to face the river searching for its source, already on high alert.

"Sarah!" A man cried, dragging their attention to the churning waters below them, in time to see a small pink clad figure disappear under the water a few hundred yards up stream, only to reemerge spluttering seconds later. Both of them could see that the child was being dragged away from the shore towards the fastest part of the river and well away from any would be rescues; they had to act fast.

Dean moved instantly towards the railings but Sam pulled him back. "Take the bank." He ordered pushing his brother in the direction of the emergency flotation device located at the end of the bridge. Dean didn't like it but he complied, Sam was right, with his shoulder he would have never made it to the child in time. Grabbing the ring he ran along the bank looking for a way down.

Sam threw off his coat and boots, never once taking his eyes off the child as he climbed over the railings. Cursing when he saw a second figure in the water, this one a man and quite obviously in difficulty. He lowered himself over the side of the bridge so he hung directly in the girl's path, only letting go when she was just feet away.

Water surged over his head but he forced himself to keep his eyes open, his entire focus on the pink clad figure in front of him. Reaching out he snagged the child's hood and pulled them both gasping to the surface.

The panicked child coughed and clung to his neck, but he forced himself to ignore her distress as he searched the bank for his brother. Spotting Dean he kicked out strongly for the bank, trying to use the current to help him instead of fighting them like his father had taught him.

Dean had found a good spot near a bend in the river where the current should pull Sam closer into the shore and had waded out into the shallows to avoid tangling the ring in the overhanging trees when he threw.

Spotting his brother, Dean started yelling and waving to get his attention. He was more than a little relieved when Sam acknowledged him and started making slow but steady progress towards him.

"Dean! Get the man!" Hollered Sam when he got closer, gesturing with his head back up the river.

Locating the Man, who was clearly in more danger than Sam despite being unencumbered by a child, Dean repositioned himself, throwing the ring so it landed just centimeters away from the drowning man- only to have it ignored.

"No! Save my daughter!" Yelled the man; desperately fighting to keep his head above water.

_Idiot_, thought Dean, _You're going to do her no good dead_.

"Sam's got her." He yelled back as he pulled the ring back in to make a second throw, more than a little annoyed by the man's actions, even if he fully understood where he was coming from.

This time the man caught the ring and he was able to start pulling him in, his shoulder screaming in protest as he did so. Scanning the river he was relieved to see that Sam had managed to get his footing just a few meters further downstream and was struggling towards the shore, the child clutched close to his chest.

Heaving the gasping man onto the bank he rushed to help his brother.

People had appeared out of nowhere and no sooner had Dean helped his brother and the child to shore, than she was whisked away, leaving the two of them sitting cold and dripping on the bank. "We're fine, thanks for asking." Commented Dean sarcastically, as he stared at the retreating backs of the small mob of people who had come to aid in the rescue of the man and child but not apparently Sam and Dean. "Yeah, a thank you would be nice." muttered a shivering Sam. The two of them exchanged a wry look, all the earlier tension between them forgotten. It was the story of their lives, no sooner was the job done than they were forgotten.

Wrapping his jacket around Sam's shivering form Dean grinned at his brother. "You did okay Sammy."

Sam unnerved slightly at the compliment and Deans grin widened, he knew that Sam was still having a hard time dealing with his actions while possessed and it was good that the kid got a chance to be reminded of all the good he did in the world. Getting up he offered his hand to his brother. "Come on. Let's go get you dried off."

Together they started to scramble up the steep muddy slope that separated the river from the park. Half way up Sam paused to get his breath and glanced up to see a middle aged woman in a Sheriffs uniform staring down at him from the top. Without pausing to think he brought his hand down hard between his brother's shoulders, ramming his face into the mud and causing him to slip back down the slope. Dean came up spluttering and angry, his face a mask of mud. Glowering he scrambled back up the slope intent on revenge.

Sam reached the top and took the Sheriffs proffered hand to pull him up onto the path.

"You boys did real good down there." She said keeping hold of Sam's hand, she gave it a warm squeeze before turning to smile at Dean who had just joined them and was trying without success to get the mud out of his eyes. "Town appreciates it." She continued giving the boys an amused and knowing look as she indicated the retreating mob. "Now come on let's get you boys somewhere you can get dry before that mud starts setting." She smiled at Dean and began to lead the way up the path.

Sam smiled at the Sheriffs retreating form, under normal circumstances he had a feeling he would like the woman but right now they needed to stay off the radar. Still just disappearing would probably make things worse and right now he really wanted to get warm, so he followed her.

"Dude what you'd do that for?!" hitting him in the arm hard as he did so.

"Dean" He gave his brother a withering look. "You're on the FBIs most wanted list and to cap it off your face was plastered all over the news little more than a month ago, I think even a small town Sheriff might _just_ recognize you."

Dean couldn't deny the logic but it didn't make him any happier. "Just don't do it again" O.K?"

"Whatever dude."

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The Sheriff led them into a small coffee shop where they were given blankets and hot drinks, while the sheriff quizzed them about what had happened. Fortunately she was more than willing to take their actions at face value and quickly left to interview other witnesses, giving both men a pat on the shoulder and a grateful smile as she left.

The two of them sat in silence for a while just staring at their drinks until a strange voice brought them out of their reverie. "I don't know what to say, you saved our lives." Sam looked up to see the blanket wrapped form of the man they had rescued earlier hovering over them, his eyes shiny with emotion. "My names Jim Fraser by the way and that's my daughter Sarah." He finished, indicating the child sitting contentedly with a paramedic just feet away.

"Sam Morrow." Offered Sam taking the man's proffered hand. "This is my brother James."

"If you boys need anything just ask. I really don't know how to thank you." The man honestly looked like he was going to cry.

"It's alright really sir. We're just glad we could help." Dean reassured him, before asking. "If you don't mind me asking what exactly happened."

The man's face paled and he swallowed hard before answering. "We were up on the viewing platform. Sarah loves to watch the river. She was swinging on the railing." His face clouded with guilt. "I know I shouldn't have let her, but they're so solid. I never thought. Then the whole section just sort of came away just like that." The man crumbled. "I saw her go under. I just…"

Dean stood up and gripped the man's shoulder. "It was an accident and you did everything you could." He told the man with absolute confidence, then gesturing towards the little girl he continued. "The important thing is she's alright."

Jim gave him a grateful smile and shook his hand warmly, still unable to speak before quickly headed back to his daughter.

"Well that's strange." Commented Dean; sitting back down next to his brother who was pulling his newly returned boots back on over his wet socks. "The railing just happened to give out like that."

"Lots of strange things happening round here lately." Said a voice

Dean looked up to see the old lady who owned the coffee shop standing in front of him with a steaming pot of coffee. Holding out his mug for a refill, he indicated that she should go on. Leaning forward she gave them a conspiratorial look which clearly identified her as the town gossip.

"Andrew Groman pulled his daughter out of this same river only six weeks back, just for them to both die in a house fire a few days later. Then there was Martin Hardy, he and his fiancée got pushed off the highway by a freak avalanche just a week before she drowned. Poor man tried to kill himself after that."

Pausing briefly for dramatic affect she continued. "If you ask me this towns cursed." She announced before wandering off to deal with the customers who were actually paying.

The brothers exchanged looks before getting up to leave; some things were better discussed away from prying eyes. Jim and the Sheriff both waved in acknowledgement of their departure and Sarah gave them a dazzling smile and yelled "Bye, Sam."

"See Sam, you can get the girls to notice you, if you try." Grinned Dean as he opened the door.

Sam just groaned and hit him in his good arm.

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In the end there wasn't really much to discuss both of them were looking for an excuse to get off the road for a couple of days and the truth be told, they had worked cases on less…

Half an hour after they left the park they found themselves once more standing in a nondescript budget motel room, booked in under the name Morrow.

"So how come you get to keep your name and I don't?" Bitched Dean as he put down his bag and started to strip off his mud encrusted boots.

"Because you yelled it in front of half the town you moron. At least I didn't come up with anything worse than James." Laughed Sam, Dean had a habit of coming up with some pretty horrendous names at times.

"I suppose there is that." Admitted Dean smiling at the memory of some of the names he had given Sam in the past. "You want to take the first shower?" He asked, Sam was still soaked through.

"Thanks."

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Forty minutes latter Sam was sitting at his laptop doing research, while Dean clattered around the bathroom singing to himself. The old lady had been right there had been some pretty bazaar deaths in town of late from unexplained drowning and fires, to the roof collapsing at a local cave and killing two people, all unlikely but seemingly accidental. It wasn't until you started putting them together did any sort of picture emerge.

"So what you got geek boy?" His brother asked cheerfully as he emerged from the bathroom, towel still in hand.

Sam didn't even bother to comment on his brother's use of one of his more insulting nicknames for him. "There's definitely something here Dean, I just don't know what. Just look at these." He pushed a stack of newspaper articles over to his brother. "All of these articles are about accidents involving one of the four elements, avalanches for earth, drowning for water, that sort of thing. Everything looks unrelated and accidental until you look at what happens to the people who survive the accidents."

"What?" Asked Dean; now slightly curious.

"They die within days in another unrelated accident involving a second element."

Dean whistled through his teeth, "Any survivors?"

"Yes one" Nodded Sam, "Martin Hardy."

"The guy who tried to kill himself"

"Yeah"

"You think he knows something?"

"Only one way to find out, at the very least he could still be in danger."

Dean nodded and moved to get up. "Just let me grab my boots and we'll go check him out."

"No way Dean"

Dean looked at him in surprise. "He's in a state psychiatric facility; there is no way you're walking in there when your face is still plastered up in every police station from here to Mexico. This morning was bad enough; we can't take any more risks."

Dean opened his mouth to violently protest but he saw "_that_" look in his kid brothers eye (the look that says I'm right and you know you're wrong).

"Dean; I can't keep busting you out of jail."

"Fine I'll stay here and do research." He was willing to do just about anything to take that look out of Sam's eyes but that didn't mean he had to be gracious about it.

Sam smiled happily and picked up the car keys.

"Bring back food." Ordered Dean as he headed out of the door

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Sam walked through the hospital corridors seemingly confident in where he was going but in actuality was more than a little lost.

The psychiatric facility was a lot larger than he had expected. Sighing in relief when he finally spotted the correct room, he stuck his clipboard under his arm and carefully entered the room.

The man looked up at him from his seat at the window his eyes dull and disinterested. "More tests?" His voice matched his eyes.

"No tests." Sam gave him his most reassuring smile. "I just need to ask you a few questions."

The man snorted and turned back to the window.

Sam stood there for a moment just observing the man, Martin Hardy had been committed for observation suffering from savior depression after a failed suicide attempt just 24 hours after his fiancée drown. Under normal circumstances that would be tragic but not really note worthy, except that three days before her death by drowning Lin Turner had almost died in an avalanche. Martin had been present on both occasion and had been able to save his fiancée the first time but not the second.

Sam pinched the bridge of his nose, this was not going to be easy. "Look I understand..."

"You don't understand; none of you do."; Snapped the man, emotions suddenly filling his previously blank face. "I let her die. With the avalanche I was saving myself as much as her, but when she fell in the river….the current was so strong. I was so scared."

Sam recognized survivor's guilt when he saw it and new that in reality there probably wasn't anything the man could have done, but he also knew that he would never convince Martin of that. So he bit back his instinctive reaction to the outburst and kept to the job at hand.

"Before the accidents were there any warning signs? Anything to make you think something wasn't right?" He asked silently hoping the man would calm down before the medical staff got involved.

"No nothing! They just happened." Martin was yelling now. "One minute we were walking along the bank and the next she was in the river drowning. There was no reason for it to happen. It shouldn't have happened!" The man crumpled in on himself and began to sob; seemingly unaware that Sam was still in the room.

"Oh Lin, I'm sorry, I should have protected you."

Feeling awkward and more than a little guilty Sam backed out of the room; he wouldn't get anything more out of Martin.

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Research had been a joke; there were no local cults and no deaths other than the ones they already knew about and nothing with even the faintest whiff of the supernatural within a hundred miles. As for the four elements angle, every culture seemed to have their own version of the four elements. From the Zoroastrians to the antique Greeks and each had a different idea about what they stood for, they needed more information. Frustrated he began to pace the room, feeling like a caged animal, Dean new Sam was right about keeping a low profile even if the tactics Sam had used in pointing it out were a little below the belt, but that didn't mean he had to like it. Suddenly feeling the need for vengeance he began to scan the room looking for mischief.

Half an hour later he had miss-paired all of Sam's socks, liberally mixing in the dirty ones with the clean, before sticking half back into the dirty Sams dirty laundry bag to make what he had done a little less obvious. Then he set up the computer so it played 'If you want to be my lover' when it started up. His initial thought had been to go with Metallica but with Sam's habit of using the thing in public places he figured the spice girls would be far more entertaining. By the time he had used one of the UV visible security markers they had used on their last job to scrawl 'Geek Boy' across the front of several of his brothers T-shirts he knew he was officially going stir crazy, if not insane.

The truth was he hated being sidelined and the feeling had only increased after Sam's little disappearing act. It was his job to be out there chasing down the leads, standing between his family and whatever big and bad was after them this week, and he couldn't do that if he had to go into hiding every time they entered a town big enough to have its' own sheriff. What if Sam was in trouble?

Mentally shaking himself, he pulled away from that thought; Sam was a big boy now and more than capable of taking care of himself. Dean smiled in a self deprecating manner, and if he kept telling himself that maybe he would actually start to believe it. Sighing he grabbed his phone and headed towards the bathroom, he needed to relax and being stuck in a room by himself with no beer and a TV on the fritz he only had limited options.

Normally he wasn't a bath kind of guy preferring just too just grab a quick shower, but right now he was willing to try anything and he still hadn't really been able to shake the cold from the river earlier. Smiling slightly he tried to figure out where that little aversion came from, probably from always sharing with his brother and Dad, he mused. Money was always tight growing up and they had never lived anywhere with more than one bathroom so spending too much time in it usually resulted in either irate banging from his Dad or whining from his brother. Besides baths were really a chick thing anyway or a thing you did with a chick, he smiled to himself remembering Debby from Tulsa, now that girl made bathing fun.

Slipping into the bath he had to admit it felt good, the warm water smoothing away aches he wasn't even aware he had, his barely healed shoulder still hurt like a bitch and he knew he was carrying himself funny because of it, of course having Sam, no sorry Meg, he corrected himself, grind their thumb into it hadn't helped. Letting out a low groan of pleasure as the water eased some of the tension he had been feeling, he finally admitted to himself that that was what had really been bugging him all along. He'd thought he knew his brother better than anyone and Meg had fooled him, and that scared the crap out of him even more than the memory of the week he had spent frantically looking for his baby brother. How the hell was he supposed to protect Sam if he didn't even know Sam well enough to realize he was possessed? Rationally he knew there was nothing else he could have done and that Sam didn't blame him for what had happened, but that didn't stop him from blaming himself. Meg was right about one thing he was worthless, his Dad would kick his ass if he knew what a piss poor job he was doing in looking after Sammy.

Forcing himself to think of something else, he slipped in his earphones and began to flick through the song list on his phone, a couple of minutes later his was foot tapping the end of the bath in time with the music, as he allowed the soothing strains of AC/DC to wash over him driving all unwanted thoughts from his head.

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Sam shoved the set of stolen scrubs to the bottom of his bag and headed out of the hospital, he wasn't sure how much use what Martin had told him was going to be but he couldn't help feel sorry for the man, it was terrible to doubt yourself in that way.

Scrubbing a hand across his face, he thought of his brother and then smiled suddenly feeling the need to do something for the older man. He knew the events of the last few months had shaken his brother to his core, but the man was still hanging in there with all the tenacity of a pit-bull. Determined to protect what was left of their battered little family, whatever the cost. Even when he had been possessed Sam had had faith that somehow his brother would fix things and he had. Which made it even more painful to remember the look in Deans eyes when Meg had taunted him, he had believed her, believed that his family would somehow be better off without him. The worst thing was that Dean wouldn't believe him if Sam told him otherwise, he was a thick headed son of a bitch sometimes, but until he could think of a way to bust through that thick skull of his, he could at least get him coffee. The stuff at the motel tasted like dish water.

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Dean wallowed in his trance like state, foot now still as it had become too much effort to keep the beat of the music. Relaxed and unaware he never knew what hit him when a strong force suddenly pushed him under the water.

His mind instantly snapping back into focus as the water covered his head. _Shit Sam, the little bastard must have already found out about the computer._

He did nothing for a second, fully expecting the pressure to release as soon as he was well and truly submerged, and not wanting to give his brother the satisfaction of seeing him come up spluttering, but one second turned into two, then three and Dean began to panic, there was no way Sam would do this to him. Kicking out at the end of the bath he tried to push his head back up but the force holding him down was too strong. Bringing up his hands he grabbed at whatever was holding him down but his searching hands found nothing. Panicked he redoubled his efforts to break the surface, his lungs screaming.

Then the pressure released as abruptly as it appeared, allowing him to shoot violently to the surface. Drawing in great heaving breaths he blinked furiously trying to get a bead on his attacker, but the room was empty. Scrambling to get out of the bath, he had only half risen when the entity attacked again slamming him into the wall behind the tub. He managed a single lung full of air before water once more closed over his head.

_Shit whatever this was it was toying with him. _The thought occurred to him as the entity once more allowed him to break the surface long enough to get a couple of gasping breaths. Once underwater again he barely had time to register surprise as the water around him suddenly turned to ice before his heart stopped and his lungs froze, his last though of his brother. _Sorry, Sam._

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Outside Sam struggled to free up a hand to open the motel room door, nearly causing the stack of food and papers tucked perilously under his chin to go crashing to the floor.

The food originally intended as a tactical apology for having once more placed his brother under virtual house arrest, was rapidly becoming a source of annoyance, as was his brother.

"Dean, open the damn door!" Yelled Sam no longer concerned about how much attention he attracted as he once more kicked at the door. The movement caused one of the coffees to fall onto its side drenching Sam's arm and side in scalding liquid. Hissing in pain, he narrowly avoided sending the second coffee the way of the first. '_Dean was so dead.' _

**Review please :)**


	2. Fire

**Elements of doubt**

**Chapter 2: Fire**

**Something's trying to kill more than just Deans' love life. Chapter 2: How did the whole town end up thinking Dean was gay?**

**Disclaimer: Don't own them just play with them.**

**Melissa: I was kind of mean wasn't it, I just hope the next chapter isn't to disappointing now.**

**Jjackles: I love mischievous Dean to but somehow I think his pranks are going to come back and bite him in the ass.**

**Poppyflake, thanks as always and crazy4jensen I hope this is quick enough for you.**

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Swearing through gritted teeth, Sam finally managed to get the door open using his head and one elbow. Backing into the room he dropped everything he was carrying onto the rooms' tiny table, more interested in getting his coffee soaked shirt off than stopping the second coffee from spilling across the table. Holding the steaming material away from his skin he slowly eased the off first the shirt and then his T-shirt, hissing in pain he frowned at the angry red skin underneath. He needed to get some cold water onto the burns before they started to blister; glancing towards the bathroom he gave the closed door a disgusted look. '_So that's where the idiot was_.' Sam growled in annoyance. '_God help him if Dean had found something worse to amuse himself than that vibrating bed he was going to hand him over to the police himself.' _

Heading towards the bathroom he angrily pushed the door open, if Dean was in there that was just too bad. Keeping his head down he moved straight to the sink, a little surprised Dean wasn't already cursing him; he turned on the cold tap and stuck his arm under the cooling flow, groaning in ecstasy as relief washed over him. His temper cooled slightly and he almost smiled when the sounds of Metallic reached his ears. If the music was this loud for him, it would probably take an earthquake to shake his brother out of whatever heavy metal induced trance he had put himself into, a quick look in the mirror showed him one Deans feet resting up by the tap.

"Dean, grab a towel or something." He picked one of the towels up from the countertop and threw it over his shoulder towards where he thought his brothers head should be, fully expecting an immediate cry of indignation and possibly anger, he became instantly worried when he didn't get any response.

Turning around, what he saw froze him to the spot. Dean's body was sprawled indecorously in the bath, limbs splayed out, head under water, eyes open and staring. Ridiculously Sam's first thought was that it was all a joke. That Dean would jump up any second now laughing at the scare he had given his brother, just like he had when he was seven, but he didn't move.

Snapping out of his daze Sam grabbed his brother under the arms intending to pull him out of the water, but if lifting an unconscious (he wouldn't use the word dead) man was hard, lifting a wet one was a hundred times worse and Dean flopped out of his hands like a wet fish, hitting the side of the tub and slipping back under the water. "Shit!" Sam nearly panicked but then training kicked in and he grasped his brother's wrists hauling him over the side of the bath and onto the floor, ignoring the freezing water and the way his brother's limp form smacked off first the tub and then the floor.

Pressing two fingers to his brother throat he lowered his cheek to Deans open mouth checking for signs of life that he already knew weren't there. Then trying to think rationally Sam assessed the situation, he didn't know how long Dean had been underwater for but the water had been cold, barely above freezing. It wasn't natural and what it implied scared the shit out of Sam but it could mean his brother still had a chance. Clinging to what his father had taught them about ice drowning he yanked the plug out of the bath and started the hot tap running. '_They're not dead until they're warm and dead.'_ His father's words rang in his ears as if he was speaking to him from beyond the grave, giving him hope.

Pinching his brothers nose closed he tilted back his head and started CPR, forcing himself into a steady rhythm as he once more tried to come up with a plan, but in all his planning never once did he consider calling an ambulance. He knew for a fact that the nearest emergency facility was over fifty miles away. If he couldn't get Dean breathing again by the time they got here his brother would already be dead but if he did there was no doubt in his mind that such a strange accident would spark an investigation and with his brothers face still plastered all over the news, it would be a very short one. Even if Dean made it as far as trail, the best he could hope for was life in prison, no one would ever believe he was innocent, the truth was just too **unbelievable**.

The room had begun to fill up with steam, so Sam threw a couple of bath towels into the tub scalding him for the second time that day. This time he didn't even flinch. Looking around the tiny bathroom he spotted one of their first aid kits. Sam silently thanked God for Dean's habit of always storing one within easy reach. Trying not to disrupt his rhythm too much he ripped open the bag, digging through the strange contents till he found what he was looking for. Sticking the vile and syringe to one side, he bit his lip as he came to a decision. Stopping CPR he grabbed the two now scalding hot towels and dropped them onto his brother's chest, stretching them out so they tucked under his armpits, around his neck and anywhere else blood flow was close to the surface. Then before he could chicken out he administered a shoot of adrenalin. It wasn't something he had ever had to do before and he really didn't know what to expect. They only really stocked the stuff as a precaution in case they came up against something with a nasty bite. Quickly Sam checked Dean's pulse, forcing himself to wait longer than he normally would, as his brother's body was still terribly cold but when he couldn't feel anything after almost a minute he started up CPR again, once more fighting down the need to panic.

Sam was just about to start his second round of rescue breathing, when a small sound reached his ears, a faint gurgling coming from his brothers throat, flipping him onto his side he held his breath as Deans body weakly tried to expel the last of the water that had invaded his lungs, the water expelled Dean took in a single heaving breath and then fell silent.

The silence nearly pushed Sam over the edge and only the faint whisper of his brother's breath against his cheek stopped him loosing it all together. Placing two fingers on the side of his throat he was further reassured by the pulse he found there, it was faint and far too slow but it was there and right now that was all that mattered to him.

Wrapping Dean in one of the remaining bath towels he pulled his brother into a fireman's lift and headed into the bedroom. He needed to get Dean warm and he was too scared to put him in the bath in case he wound up drowning him again. Struggling over to the nearest bed, he pulled back the covers and deposited his brothers limp form in the center, then pulling the covers from the other bed to add to the pile. He kicked off his shoes and crawled in behind his brother, pulling him close so Deans back came to rest up against his chest. Trying to get comfortable he slipped one arm under Dean's head and the other around his chest, placing a shaky hand over his brother's heart he took what little reassurance he could from the movements he felt there. Within seconds he was shivering, it was like hugging an ice cube, Dean's body seemed to be trying to leach the heat out of his very core but he held on.

An hour later his brother was finally beginning to show signs of warming up, his body shivering weakly but Dean still hadn't given any sign of trying to wake up and that scared the hell out of Sam. Now that the initial panic was over, the implications of what had just happened began to settle in. Try as he might he could only come up with two scenarios for how this would play out.

Scenario one, the water turned to near ice instantaneously stopping his heart and constricting his throat before he ever got the chance to truly drown. The cold protected his brain and he hadn't even got enough water in his lungs to be at risk of secondary drowning. Dean woke pissed and raring to kill whatever had done this to him.

Scenario two, Dean went down fighting. The cold was an afterthought. Even if he did recover from the complications of drowning, his brain had been starved of oxygen and in all likelihood he'd be a vegetable or at least severely disabled.

Sam knew which of the two scenarios he preferred but who was he kidding, Dean never did anything without a fight.

Feeling pessimistic he hugged his brother a little tighter. "It's O.K Dean, whatever happens I'm going to be there. I won't leave you to face this alone." He whispered to his brother, trying to reassure them both that they could cope with whatever was to come.

Soon though despite his determination to stand vigil over his ailing brother Sam's own exhaustion kicked in as his body came off the adrenalin high it had been running on since finding his brother and he fell asleep, snoring softly into his brother's shoulder.

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Elly Petters giggled nervously as she followed her friend Donna up to room 12. It wasn't as if they were doing anything wrong. They were supposed to be cleaning the rooms. They were just doing it a little early. So if they happened to run into the two good looking young men who were staying there, that would just be a coincidence wouldn't it.

"You do it, it was your idea." Whispered Donna; shoving the keycard into her hand.

Elly opened the door as quietly as possible no longer sure this was such a good idea, but what she saw next soon changed her mind. The room was a mess, she could see a shirt and T-shirt scattered across the floor along with a pair of boots, obviously somebody had been in a hurry to get out of them and had banged up against the table in the process judging by the amount of coffee split there, but what really made her eyes pop out of her head was the sight of the two clearly naked men curled up in bed together.

Dropping the towels she was carrying on the small table by the side of the door she quietly closed the door. Her face flushed with a mixture of embarrassment and disappointment. _Why did all the good looking ones have to be gay?_ Then she smiled catching Donna's eye. _Just wait until they told the others._

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The feeling of movement dragged Sam up from the depths of sleep. "Go back to sleep Jess." He groaned only to have an elbow strike him in the ribs. _Since when have Jess's elbows been that sharp?_

Then the memories of the previous night's events slammed into with the force of a sledge hammer, bringing panic with it as he realized what was happening. Dean was choking, seemingly unaware of his surroundings. Pulling his brother into a sitting position he supported him as he began to hack up the phlegm that had collected in his water irritated lungs overnight.

Sam silently cursed himself he should have stayed awake, Sam used one hand to support his brother. While using the other to rub small circles on his back he tried to encourage him to breathe.

"Dean."

"Dean."

"Talk to me man." Sam was beginning to get more than a little worried that Dean wasn't giving any signs of even being aware he was there._ Could he really be brain damaged? _He thought with a feeling of rising panic.

Finally the coughing stopped and Dean slumped back against him.

"Sam?" Dean's voice was small and horse, but that single word was enough to make his heart leap. If his brother could still recognize him maybe he was going to be alright.

"Yeah, buddy it's me. Just breathe O.K."

Dean did his best to comply but he still needed to know what was going on. "W.. wha…What ha..ppened?" He gasped.

"You drowned Dean." His brother gave him an incredulous look; he didn't remember any of this. "You drowned in the bath." Sam explained patiently not liking how confused Dean was. "Something attacked you and you drown in the bath."

Memories began to flood back and Sam felt his brother stiffen in his arms, before beginning to struggle free of Sam as something else occurred to him.

"Sam where are my clothes and why are you in bed with me?" He was starting to feel panicked and he had the distinct impression me was missing something important.

"You were suffering from hypothermia Dean; I had to get you warm." The younger Winchester tried to reason with his obviously agitated brother.

"I'm naked Sam." Dean yelled his voice getting a little high pitched.

"You are not naked Dean." Sam yelled back more than a little annoyed. _How the hell could he be focusing on something as trivial as this when he had nearly drowned? _

"Dude a towel doesn't count."

"Forgive me for not worrying more that the world might get a glimpse of _**little**_ Dean." His voice dripped with sarcasm.

Sam's anger cut through the haze that had been fogging his mind like a knife. His brother was right if their positions had been reversed the last thing he would have been worrying about would have been protecting his brothers' modesty. He was lucky Sam had thought to do what he did. Taking a good look at his bother he sighed, the kid looked like crap. Clearly whatever had happened while he was out had taken a heavy toll on the younger Winchester.

Forcing himself to relax Dean tried to lighten the mood. "Dude less of the little. O.K"

Sam relaxed fractionally accepting his brother words for the apology they were. Getting up he pulled some clothes out of his brother's bag and throw them at him, trying not to laugh when Dean insisted on getting changed under the covers.

Dean just rolled his eyes at his brothers quickly covered laugh, not wanting to explain that he still felt like he had been running around naked in a blizzard and that was why he wasn't quite ready to give up the warmth of the bed and not any sense false modesty.

Sitting back on the bed, Sam handed his brother a handful of tissues when he started coughing again. Deans breathing still sounded wet and more than a little harsh.

Waiting until his brother had finished he asked. "Dean, do you know what happened?"

Dean considered it for a moment and then shrugged. "Can't tell you much, I was in the bath and some kind of invisible force pushes me under." Pulling a face at the unpleasant memory and added. "I'll tell you one thing though, whatever it was it was having fun."

"Why do you say that?"

"Cause it let me up a few times before it finished the job."

Sam paled at the thought of what his brother had been through, he must have been terrified.

"Sam, don't sweat it. I'm here and I'm O.K."

Sam snorted at that, Dean nearly drowns, no _does_ drown and he's still the one doing the reassuring.

Wanting to change the subject Dean spoke again. "You better go check us in for another couple of nights. I think this is going to take a while."

"No way, I'm not leaving you alone with that thing still out there. It attacked you here Dean, in our room."

Seeing the worry in his brother eyes Dean relented. "Fine, I'll come with you. I could do with some food anyway."

Sam scowled but didn't say anything. He really didn't think his brother should be running around just yet, but then Dean had always been stubborn. Instead he got up and started getting dressed. Stripping off the jeans he had slept in he pulled a face at the red indentations they had left in his flesh, going to sleep in them probably hadn't been one of his better ideas.

Five minutes later they were ready, although strangely enough neither of them had suggested using the bathroom. If Dean was honest with himself that was part of the reason he wanted to head out to the diner, he really needed the bathroom.

Grabbing his keys he headed towards the door, before stopping and giving his brother a funny look. "Sam when did we get fresh towels?"

Sam paled.

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Walking into the motel reception behind his brother Dean leant up against the doorframe enjoying the feel of the sun on his face as Sam dealt with the near geriatric manager.

Requesting the extra nights, Sam was fishing around in his pocket for the correct credit card when the manager suddenly spoke. "You don't have to lie you know?"

The younger Winchesters head shot up at the manager's words and he could almost feel Dean tense behind him. "I mean we may look a little conservative around here, but we're really quite liberal." Now Sam was really confused. _What on earth was the man on about?_ "If you boys want to change to a King sized room nobody's going to mind." Sam's jaw dropped and he could hear a rhythmic thumping which may or may not have been his heart, as he finally worked out what the man was saying, he honestly didn't know whether he should be relieved or shocked.

"No that's fine." He muttered, ducking his head in embarrassment.

"O.K son but the offers open." Replied the man; swiftly completing the transaction.

Turning quickly away, he finally spotted the source of the thumping he was still hearing. Dean was standing in the doorway rhythmically smacking his head off the frame.

Grabbing his brother by the back of the neck he quickly steered him outside.

"Dude, get off me. You're just making it look worse." Dean angrily shrugged off his brothers' hand. "You could have set him straight you know." He accused.

"Dude what was I supposed to say?" Asked Sam, more than a little ticked off as well, it's not as if he was enjoying this. "My brother went hypothermic when an evil spirit drowned him in your bath tub, so I had to warm him up? Who's going to believe that?"

Dean couldn't argue with that but he didn't have to be happy about it. "You're supposed to be the brains of this outfit, I'm sure you could have come up with something. You were going to be a lawyer for God's sake."

"You could have said something too, but you didn't. So let's just drop it." Replied Sam, climbing into the Impala and angrily slamming the door, an act which earned him a withering look from his brother.

"Fine by me."

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Walking out of the diners small restroom Dean, smiled at a couple of college girls who were sitting at the counter. The girls immediately started giggling and pointing to Sam who had taken up residence in one of the booths, giving Dean a bad feeling. Surely things couldn't have got this out of hand already?

Feeling more than a little uncomfortable he headed back towards Sam only to see him pull out his laptop and switch it on. Making a mad dash across the room as he realized just how inappropriate his joke had just become. He came close to trapping Sam's fingers he closed the laptop so fast.

"Dude what is with you!?" Yelped Sam; yanking his fingers out of the way.

Dean plastered on his best smile and grinned at his brother. "You shouldn't read at the table Sammy, it's not good manners."

Sam just stared at him as if he had just gone crazy. _Maybe he would have to reassess his opinion on the possibility of brain damage._

The elder Winchester slipped into the booth opposite his brother and began to shift uncomfortably. He seemed to have a lot of aches and pains that he couldn't remember having before. Pulling up the sleeve of his shirt to examine one particularly sore spot, he was more than a little surprised to find a large purple bruise.

"Yeah.. Sorry about that." Dean looked up at his brother who was looking more than a little contrite.

"Sam what did you do to me?" He asked in a low dangerous voice.

Sam blushed, looking anywhere other than his brother before clearing his throat nervously. "I may have dropped you." He said quietly hiding behind the menu. Dean just stared at him open mouthed. "More than once." He finished in a whisper.

Dean just stared at him for a minute before complaining. "Dude you bruised my ass." He sounded more than a little petulant.

"Is there anything I can get you boys?" Both of their heads whipped up to face the smiling waitress who was now standing by their table, her relaxed stance making it obvious that she hadn't just walked over. Sam blinked owlishly at her. _Why the hell did this keep happening to them today? They were supposed to be Hunters for fuck sake!_

"Coffee and a sausage and bacon sandwich to **go**." Dean answered; his voice breaking oddly as he spoke.

"Make that two." Sighed Sam, this was turning into one hell of a day.

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Dean finished his sandwich and rubbed his greasy hands down the front of his jeans.

"Man, that's gross."

Dean just grinned and threw his empty coffee cup at a trash can which sat close to the Impalas bonnet where the two of them were sitting staring out over the park.

"This is all your fault you know."

Sam collapsed in on himself, Dean was right. This was all his fault. He had forgotten everything their father had taught him about securing your location even before he had found his brother, hell he hadn't even remembered to lock the door properly. It could have been something much worse than the maid sneaking into their room. He couldn't believe he hadn't even woken up.

"Sam?" Dean was surprised and worried by his brother's reaction; he'd been expecting some smart ass comeback for his comment, not this.

"I'm sorry."

"Sorry for what Sam?" Sam sounded so young and broken it nearly ripped his heart out.

"For this, for all of this. I should have taken better care of you."

Dean pulled in a deep breath as all the pieces suddenly fell into place, sometimes he didn't need to be psychic to read his brothers mind.

"Don't do this to yourself kid. You were exhausted. We'd been on the road for three days straight and with Meg being the party animal she is I doubt you were getting much sleep before that." Dean fixed his brother with a penetrating stare. "We're only human Sam, whatever Dad might have thought."

"Still…"

Dean cut him off. "Can it Sam. You did fine. I'm alive aren't I?"

"As for this, This is going to be one of those things..." Dean grinned trying his best to get a response out of his brother. "You're never going to tell anybody about or I'll kick your ass."

Sam smiled despite himself; his brother could be such an idiot at times.

"We good?" Asked Dean; giving him a rough smack on the leg.

Sam nodded.

"Come on then, we're burning daylight. I want to waste this thing so we can get out of here before my reputation's ruined forever." He got up and walked around to the driver's side door. "I'll drop you off at the Sheriffs and start checking out Andrew Groman's work, see if I can come up with any more clues."

"No way man, we are not splitting up." Snapped Sam, suddenly worried.

"I'm fine Sammy."

"Yeah Dean, that's why you're wearing about three jumpers. You look like the Michelin man!" Sam glowered at his brother, he didn't even mention that Deans breathing still sounded wet and he kept coughing. "What if that "_thing_" comes back and tries to finish the job?"

Dean face softened slightly at his brother's obvious concern. "Look Sam I'll admit that thing caught me off guard, but that's not going to happen again, I won't let it. Besides there has always been a couple of days gap between attacks in the past. We should be taking advantage of that to gather as much information as possible, and as I remember you were the one who wanted to keep me out of the Sheriffs direct line of sight."

Sam relented. "Fine but we check in on the hour. No exceptions." He insisted. "I mean it Dean, no exceptions."

"Fine, **Mom**." Bitched his brother, but Sam knew he would do it.

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"Sam." Sheriff Politska smiled warmly at Sam as he entered her office. "What can I do for you this fine day? How's that _**brother**_ of yours?" She asked giving him an amused wink to take any sting out of the silent accusation.

Sam blushed clearly the town gossip network was in full swing; Dean was going to hate this. "He's fine, thanks." Mumbled Sam shaking the Sheriffs hand, before taking the chair she gestured to. "I just wanted to ask you about some of the accidents you have been having in town lately."

The sheriff gave him an appraising look, her face shrewd. "The **accidents** have been happening for about six months now, maybe longer. There's no way of knowing but that's when things started escalating to the point it became noticeable. I'd like to say that the town's just having a run of bad luck…" She shrugged and Sam finished for her. "But it just doesn't feel right."

"No it doesn't, but all the things that have happened have to be accidents. I wouldn't even know where to start to fake some of them, there's just too many variables, Still." She paused for a moment and pinched the bridge of her nose. Obviously the Sheriff had been thinking a lot about this lately. "There are always two people involved in the accident and their always close, father daughter, best friends, an engaged couple" _or_ _brothers_ added Sam silently. "That sort of thing, sometimes it's almost like someone's putting one of them in danger to see how the other one will react. Also the accident always has something elemental about it. It's never just a car accident or an electrocution."

Sam had to admit he was impressed there wasn't many people could even begin to put a pattern like this together, especially if they didn't have a clue about the possibilities the supernatural world opened up to a killer.

"Apart from that there is no connection between them other than they are all locals." She finished and gave him a steady look. "Sam can I ask why you want to know about this?"

"People started talking after the accident yesterday; it just seemed a little strange. You know all these accidents in such a small town." He shrugged and continued by way of explanation. "I do a bit of freelance journalism sometimes and it seems like there could be a story here. Even if it's just a filler piece about a small towns run of bad luck, but to be honest I think it's something else. I just don't know what yet."

She sighed. "It may be that this thing, whatever it is could benefit from a new set of eyes. So I won't stop you, but if you boys get in over your heads, I'm your first phone call. Got it?"

Sam nodded and smiled, he was definitely beginning to like this woman.

"Now _get_," She smiled. "Some of us have got work to do."

Heading out of the station he looked at his watch and seeing that it was almost one. He called his brother. "Just checking in, I'm going to head over to Jims and check on him and Sarah then I'll meet you at the pottery, it's just down the road and I could do with the air."

Smiling at Deans grumbling agreement he hung up and headed out.

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Marklands pottery and fine glass looked like nothing more than a couple of small warehouses, with a tiny gallery attached but Dean had to admit some of the stuff they produced was really good. He was staring at a clay sculpture of a teenage girl while he waited to see the owner. She was sitting with her elbows resting on her knees staring off into the distance with a wistful look in her eyes.

"That's Chris Andy's daughter, he always did his best work with her as his model." A man spoke from behind him, his voice soft and sad.

Dean turned around to greet the man who had spoken; he looked to be in late thirties and was dressed in jeans and a T-shirt. "Mr. Markland?" He smiled.

"Please call me Mac." He returned Deans hand shake.

"James."

"Eileen told me you're here to do a piece on Andy for Ceramic art." The man smiled sadly at that. "Funny how artists are always more interesting once their dead. Still it's nice to know that at least part of him is going to live on." Under normal circumstances Dean would have just figured that he was just trying to increase the value of any pieces he still had in his possession, but this guy sounded entirely genuine as if he had lost a friend rather than an employee. "Come on. I'll show you his studio. It's the best place to get to know him."

They walked into a large studio dominated by a giant walk in kiln. Looking around Dean winced at the sight of some of the pieces sitting out on the bench. "Dreadful aren't they?" Laughed Jim; "Andy taught a couple of classes up at St. Mary's, these are their pieces. It would seem that rich debutants don't make the best artists. Whatever they would like to think"

Dean smiled at that.

"Here look at this." He walked over to the kiln and patted it. "This is his own design; it took him two years to get it right." The man noted with a hint of pride at his friends stubbornness. "It holds a more constant temperature than the old ones and heats up more steadily, so we lose fewer of the pieces during firing." He gave Dean a sad look. "I doubt we'll ever us it again. It takes forever to heat up because it heats up real slow at first to let all the water evaporate, before the real firing starts, so we only ever use it for the one off pieces."

Trying to get the man back on track Dean spoke. "The accident that killed him it was pretty strange. Can you think of anyone who would want to harm him or his daughter?"

Mac gave him a funny look, but the shrugged obviously figuring he was just looking for an angle for his article. "No, he was a good guy, a stubborn bastard at times but one of the best." The man gave Dean a sad and slightly incredulous smile. "Can you believe he used to be a solider? A tank commander during desert storm, you wouldn't think it looking at his work would you."

Dean shook his head.

"He came here to get away from all that after his wife died. This town, his daughter were his life. I can't think of anyone who would want to hurt him."

Jim sat down at one of the benches and looked at his hands for a moment.

"I was with him; you know when the fire started. We were just standing outside just talking, next thing I know the place is ablaze. He ran inside after Chris. I should have stopped him, I know I should have but it just all happened so fast. The funny thing is as soon as he'd gone in I knew he wasn't coming out, not without Chris. He just wouldn't give up on her and well the fire was so fierce there was no way he would have made it upstairs."

He just stood there for a moment in silence obviously thinking about what he could have done differently, and then finally he spoke. "I'm going back up to the office, feel free to poke around. You can speak to Eileen if you need anything else."

He walked off and Dean headed outside to see if he could pick up a signal to call Sam, but as soon as he got outside the phone began to ring of its own accord.

"Sam." Dean answered the phone without even bothering look to see who was calling. He listened to his brother for a moment and the replied. "Fine, I'll just be poking around Andy's studio." He muttered, wanting to be getting on with things rather than hanging around a dead end.

So with nothing better to do he headed back inside and began to poke around. Finding nothing he walked over to the kiln and was peering inside when a hard shove propelled him inside. Spinning around he tried to stop the door closing, pushing against it with all his might but it wasn't enough. Pulling a flashlight he located the emergency release on the side of the door and pulled it, but nothing happened. Somewhere he could hear a Furness firing up.

**Please Review. :)**


	3. The nick of time

**Elements of doubt**

**Chapter 3: The nick of time**

**Something's trying to kill more than just Deans' love life. Chapter 3: Dean is in dire need of rescuing, Sam just doesn't know it.**

**I was going to do this in four chapters, one for each element but then I realized that not only were my chapter getting really big, our week long spate of rain was finally over and I should really go outside and enjoy the sunshine before it goes away again. So here's what I've got so far, I hope it's O.K .**

**Kits: Thanks. That's my first Awesome**

**dread kaili: Your right they have overdone the gay jokes on occasion but it can be very funny sometimes and I just kind of walked into it, when I realized were I had put them, so decided to have some fun with it. So I'm glad you think it worked O.K.**

**Ps Promise not to overcook Dean to much but I'll give Sam plenty of opportunity to play the overprotective hero. **

**Please let me know what you think and if you have any suggestions that would be great to.**

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"Shit!"

Dean forced himself to take a deep breath and calm down, now was not the time to be panicking. Pulling out his pocketknife he started to examine the locking mechanism on the doors emergency release. It didn't take long. The thing was buggered, at least half of the mechanism was missing and there wasn't even enough left to even fudge a repair.

The kilns interior was already beginning to heat up. It wasn't much yet, just enough to make the small space seem a little stuffy but Dean new that would soon change. Looking at his watch he swore again, it was still fifty minutes until his next scheduled check in with Sam. _O.K time to get proactive_, he thought pulling his gun out of the back of his jeans he used its butt to bang on the kilns small observation window.

"Help! Somebody, Help!" He yelled at the top of his lungs, his voice reverberating around the tightly enclosed space. There was no way anyone was going to hear him on the outside.

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Sam raised his hand to knock on the door of the old style plantation house, but the door flew open before he could actually knock. "HI SAM!" Sarah yelled as she bounded past a surprised looking woman and wrapped herself around his leg.

"Err, HI." He greeted the woman weakly, more than a little surprised at his greeting himself.

The woman smiled, her face taking on an expression of amused understanding. "So you're Sam?"

"Yes, Mam"

"I'm May, Sarah's Mom." She said giving his hand a warm shake. Then with a slightly apologetic smile she turned her attention to the little girl. "Sarah, why don't you see if Sam wants to come through to the kitchen for some cookies while I get Daddy?"

"Samwanttohavesomecookies!" Squealed the little girl as she let go of his leg and took his hand instead, dragging him towards the kitchen without even giving him the chance to consider her question.

Sitting himself at the kitchen counter at Sarah's insistence, he tried not to laugh as the little girl went into full hostess mode. Rapidly presenting Sam with a plate of chocolate chip cookies an empty mug and strangely a framed picture of a rather impressive looking office building. Fortunately her parents returned in time to stop her spilling a gallon of milk all over the floor.

"I'll take that honey. I'm sure Sam would rather have a coffee anyway?" May told her daughter, looking to Sam for confirmation as she retrieved the milk from the little girl.

Sarah's face dropped in disappointment and she bit her lip. Sam just couldn't take it. "Are you kidding milk's the only way to go with cookies" He grinned.

Sarah squealed in delight, suddenly happy again and Sam wondered briefly if he had used similar tactics to get his own way with Dean all those years ago.

Jim laughed and gave Sam a friendly slap on the shoulder, while May just rolled her eyes at the lot of them.

"It's good to see you again Sam." Offered Jim; looking around for Dean as he did so. "James not with you"

"No, sorry, he's out running some errands that couldn't wait. We just wanted to check you were O.K. You know after yesterday."

"That's a shame I'd have liked to thank him as well."

"Really sir, there's no need. Like we said before we're just glad we could help."

Jim smiled. "May, do if you mind if I borrow Sam for just a minute? I'd like to show him the garden."

May raised an eyebrow but just nodded. Sarah wasn't quite so understanding, "Daddiiiiiiiiieeeeeee!"

"No honey." He said gently. "You can have Sam back in a moment."

"O.K Daddy" Huffed the little girl.

Sam handed him the picture to Jim as he got up and the man rolled his eyes. "It's one of mine, she likes showing it to people." He said by way of explanation, but when Sam just gave him a blank look he explained further. "I'm an architect."

"Oh, it's good." And it was, in Sam's opinion anyway.

"Thanks" Smiled Jim leading the way towards the back door.

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Pulling his cell out of his pocket, he stripped off his jacket and the two jumpers he was wearing. He definitely wasn't going to need them in here, he was already sweating hard.

Wiping the sleeve of his long sleeved T-shirt across his forehead, he began to sweep the room looking for reception. It was a long shot he knew. He hadn't even been able to get reception on the outside of the kiln but his next option was even less likely to work and he had already search every inch of the cramped space without finding anything he could use to his advantage.

Throughout his search the reception bars on his phone remained depressingly absent but he tried the phone anyway, calling Sam over and over again. Then in a fit of desperation he tried 911 in the blind hope that he could throw himself on the mercy of the towns good natured Sheriff but that didn't work either.

Looking at his watch for what had to be the twelfth time in five minutes he was depressed to see that only fifteen minutes had passed since he had been locked into the kiln. This was not looking good.

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"I think you're her new hero." Sam blushed at that and tried to look anywhere other than Jim's smiling face.

Jim laughed and clapped him on the shoulder, clearly enjoying his discomfort but when he spoke it was with complete sincerity. "I could think of worse choices. The two of you…. What you did for us…." He smiled slightly uncomfortably and patted Sam on the arm. "I'll stop embarrassing you now but sufficed to say we owe you a lot."

The two of them walked down the garden path for a little way in silence before Jim indicated a park bench. Taking a seat he shifted in discomfort for a moment before speaking. "Sam, can I ask you something? It may sound a little strange."

Sam nodded, curious.

"Did you notice something strange, you know about the accident?"

"No. Not really. Why are you asking?"

"It's just that Sam was around earlier asking questions." Sam's gave him a confused look. "Not you Sam of course, Sam the Sheriff." He smiled. "She was suggesting that maybe I should take May and Sarah and go away for a while to get over the accident. She didn't say it in so many words but I've known her since school and she doesn't spook easily, and this has got her spooked. So I was wondering, it was an accident wasn't it? I mean I can't remember anything that would suggest it wasn't but it's not the first accident that has happened around here lately and what with what happened to Chris and Andy. I was just wondering if you saw anything."

The man looked incredibly uncomfortable he was obviously finding this very embarrassing. So it was a measure of how seriously he was taking this that he was speaking to Sam at all.

"I think you should go" Said Sam seriously.

Jim looked relieved as if he'd expected Sam to tell him he was nuts. "You think something is going on too, don't you?"

Sam nodded. "Yes I do. I just don't know what."

Jim gave him an apprising look. "You better see this then."

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Dean was beginning to feel light headed and it was getting difficult to keep his eyes open, they felt so dry. _Time for plan B_, he thought, _or was it plan F he was losing count. _

Picking up his gun from where it lay on top of his coat, where he had put it after it got to hot to be comfortable to keep on him. Taking aim at the small observation window, he swallowed hard. Firing a weapon in this type of enclosed space was never a good idea but he had run out of options. Firing once, he had to hit the ground hard when the bullet ricocheted past his head. The floor was already unbearable hot.

Quickly pushing up off the floor, he headed back to the window. It was still intact but a thin spider web of cracks had appeared around the impact sight. It was a start.

Sighing he took aim again and got ready to duck.

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"It appeared yesterday morning, I didn't think anything of it at the time but now I'm not so sure. It certainly gave Sam a start." He smiled. "Sorry Sheriff Politska."

"It would." Sam knelt down to get a closer look at the symbol carved into the rock by the Fraser's front door. "It's the symbol for the Greek god Poseidon."

"The water God" Whispered Jim his face paling.

Sam nodded.

"We'll be out of here by this evening."

Sam gave the man a sympathetic look. "I'd stay away till the sheriff says it's O.K to come back, if I were you."

Jim nodded in agreement; he was still pale but looked determined. Sam just hoped going away would be enough.

"Come on. We better get back for milk and cookies or Sarah's going to have a fit." He said as he steered Sam back to the house. "I'll get everyone moving as soon as you head out."

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Dean had to concentrate to stay on his feet now. He could feel the heat of the floor through his boots and didn't think it would be a good idea to fall down. It had taken him six bullets, two near misses and a long scrape across his arm from a particularly nasty ricochet to get the job done but it hadn't helped. The window had broken but he couldn't get to the door release and nobody had come to investigate the noise, even when he had fired off all but one of his remaining bullets through the gap.

He could no longer raise the spit to yell. The hole in the glass hadn't even helped the temperature much because the heated walls stopped him getting to close to it.

Morbidly he had kept the last bullet for himself, he wasn't sure he would use it. He couldn't do that to Sam but it was comfort knowing it was there.

He wasn't afraid of dying, not really. It was this particular method of dying that scared the crap out of him and it had done since he was four years old. He knew that this was different; he wouldn't actually be burning to death. Well at least not until the kiln got really hot and he would be long dead by then but standing here with his eyes squeezed shut to try and keep what moisture he could in, the hoar of the Furness sounded a lot like the noise his house had made as it burned down with his mother in it. It still gave him nightmares to imagine what she had been through and he didn't know if he had the courage to face a death like that, not when he just had to stand here and wait for it, but then as always there was Sam.

So in the end all he could do was stand there and pray, not that he believed in it but he was willing to give it a go for Sam's sake.

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Sam finished his cookie and accepted a drawing from Sarah.

"This is really good Sarah." He smiled looking at the picture. I was obviously a picture of yesterdays rescue with Sam depicted as a giant and Sarah as a rather strange looking pink blob, but the thing that struck an odd cord with Sam was the chaotic black mass floating over the scene. "Sarah, what is this?"

Sarah shrugged. "It was singing, it sounded funny. I didn't like it."

"It was singing before you fell in." He asked.

Sarah nodded and Sam exchanged a worried look with Jim, who nodded. The family would be gone within the hour.

Saying his goodbyes he head out the door, looking at his watch as he did so. It was a couple of minutes past the hour and Sam was a little surprised Dean hadn't called already. His brother may be lax with his time keeping on most things but he was always on the dot with a check in. Unconsciously picking up his pace he pulled out his phone and hit speed dial. When it went straight to voice mail he broke into a jog. It was probably nothing.

Five minutes later he was at Marklands pottery and glass. Pulling open one of the warehouse doors and was half deafened by the cacophony within. A couple of men looked up as daylight flooded into the interior, one of them moved towards him. "Can I help you?" He enquired politely.

"Yes, thanks. I'm looking for James Morrow. Do you know where he is?"

"Sure, I'll show you." He clapped another man on the shoulder and headed past Sam out the door. "This is the glass blowers workshop; he should still be in Andy's studio over in the pottery workshop. It's a bit quite over there today. I'm afraid we're between runs." He smiled at Sam and offered his hand. "I'm Mac by the way, the owner."

"Sam." He said shaking the man's hand.

The two of them were walking towards the second warehouse, when Mac flagged down a group of young woman one of whom Sam recognized from the park yesterday. "Eileen, have you seen that reporter anywhere?

"No Mac." She shrugged, completely disinterested.

"O.K, I guess he must still be in the studio then. Thanks Eileen. You girls take care getting back to college." He smiled and walked over to the warehouse door and pulled open the door.

Markland Pottery and fine glass had been in Macs family for three generations. He knew every noise, every smell, every inch of the place and something was off.

It wasn't so much that the kiln was on. Although it shouldn't have been on, that caught his attention; it was that it sounded wrong. Running across the room he was hitting the emergency cut off before he had even given it conscious thought, an exploding kiln of this size would take out half this building and everyone in it.

The uneasy feeling that had been sitting in the pit of Sam's stomach erupted into full on panic when Mac suddenly ran towards the kiln, there was no doubt in his mind that whatever was wrong had something to do with Dean. Running after Mac he reached the man just as he spotted the shattered observation window.

"Shit" Yelled Sam as he spotted the wavering figure inside the kiln. Running to the door Sam yanked at the doors opening mechanism but nothing happened.

"It won't open while the kilns still hot." Yelled Mac pulling a knife out of his pocket and slashing the cables attached to the lock, suddenly something clicked inside the door and Sam could get it open.

A wall of heat hit Sam as the door opened making him stager back but only a step, as he ran to Dean's side. The instant he touched his brother Dean collapsed, forcing Sam to physically drag him out.

Returning to the cool of the studio was almost as much of a shock to his system as entering the kiln even after only a few seconds exposure, it made Sam's head spin and he almost didn't register when Deans body started to seize.

**Please Review. :)**


	4. The road to recovery

**Elements of doubt **

**Chapter 4: The road to recovery**

**Something's trying to kill more than just Deans' love life. **

**Chapter 4: Sam tries to protect his brother as things continue to spiral out of control.**

**Thank you to everyone who was kind enough to write me a review. Sorry I haven't had a chance to write back yet, things have just been a little hectic lately. Which is part of the reason this story is taking a little while to develop, so please bare with me the plot will resume shortly. **

**Please let me know what you think and if you have any suggestions that would be great to.**

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"Get him on the floor" Ordered Mac running towards them with a hosepipe in hand. As soon as Sam hit the ground, he began to spray the tepid water over Deans convulsing form, not caring that he was soaking Sam in the process. "Just protect his airway, O.K."

Sam just nodded, shifting Dean in his lap so he could breathe more easily. For once he didn't mind taking orders from a stranger, his mind had gone blank.

Mac shook his head hard trying to regain his focus. Heat exhaustion was a common occurrence in his line of work but he knew that this had gone well beyond sending the sufferer to sit outside with a large glass of re-hydration salts. This kid had stopped sweating and was now in the middle of a full on fit. _How the hell had this happened?_ The boy Sam was clearly just as shocked as he was at finding his friend in this state.

Grabbing a pair of shears from one of the benches, he tossed them to the kid. "Get him stripped off. I'll be back in a minute."

Sam caught the shears and stared at them stupidly for a moment before his brain kicked back into gear and he shifted out from underneath his brother now still form. He could still feel the heat radiating off Dean despite his now drenched state, they needed to do something else to get him cooled down.

Dean's clothes were welded to his body, even being drenched with water hadn't really helped. Dean's clothes were too badly baked on. Mac was right the only way to get them off was to cut them off. Reaching for his brother's biker boots Sam was horrified to find that the soles were distorted, his hands shook as he pulled them off. Dean's feet were badly swollen and Sam had to cut the elastic tops of his socks before he could peel them off.

Using the shears to cut up the front of his jeans and T-shirt, he lifted his unconscious brother out of his now shredded clothes and laid him on the cold concrete floor, wearing nothing put his boxers.

Rocking back on his heels, he could practically hear his brothers pissed off comments at this undignified treatment. _Dude I'm seriously starting to worry about you. What is it with you trying to get me naked?_ Dean's voice sounded so real in his head, he found himself answering. "You're not naked Dean! You **were** not naked. The only one obsessed with this is you."

"Excuse me?" Asked Mac sounding more than a little confused,

Sam hadn't noticed him coming back and blushed slightly at his outburst being overheard. "Sorry, I just…"

Mac just gave him a sympathetic smile as he began to apply the icepack he had brought over to Deans overheated body. Sam's eyes almost popped out of his head as Mac placed two of the icepacks over the femoral arteries at either side of his brother's groin. It wasn't that what the man had done was medically wrong or that the man seemed to have any ulterior motive for doing so; it was just that he'd have sworn that if any **guy** ever tried to get that personal with his brother he would have risen out of his grave to punch them.

Sam remembered one time in Belford, Illinois when Dean had come to swinging when a Doctor had tried to insert a femoral line. The only reason his brother had got away with it was because no one could believe a man with that much blood loss could actually hit hard enough to break a man's jaw, but this time he didn't even flinch and that scared the shit out of Sam.

Fortunately Mac didn't seem to have registered his odd reaction and having placed addition icepacks under the older Winchesters arms and at the back of his knees was in the process of taking Deans temperature.

"I take it this happens fairly often around here?" Asked Sam; wanting to fill the silence. He couldn't take his eyes off Dean; it was as if he did he would be somehow giving his brother permission to die.

"People getting locked in the kilns? No. I can safely say that's a first." The man snorted but then his face softened, understanding Sam's need to talk. "We get a couple of cases of heatstroke a year though, usually apprentices too dumb to know when to take a break." He looked Sam straight in the eye. "It's unpleasant but they get over it and none of them have ever done it twice."

The digital thermometer Mac was holding in Dean's ear beeped and he pulled it out. Sighing in relief when it saw the reading he held it up for Sam to see, 105.8.

"Well that's not as bad as I thought it would be." He grinned as he got to his feet. "I need to go up to the office to call an ambulance, the reception here is awful but I should only be gone a..."

Sam cut him off. "No!"

Mac gave him a funny look obviously brought up short by Sam's reaction.

"He gets panic attacks around hospitals, real bad ones. I just don't know if he could take one right now." He explained his voice pleading, as he mentally apologized to his brother for assigning him girly characteristic.

Mac gave him an assessing look, clearly torn. "I'll make you a deal. I was going to call Doc Shaw as well anyway, as he's a lot closer than the hospital. If he says it's alright we'll keep him out of the hospital, if not he goes. OK?"

Sam nodded his agreement, willing to do just about anything to keep his brother safe and under the police's radar.

"Fine, then. Just keep an eye on his temperature and remove the icepacks if it gets below 101. We don't want him getting too cold." Mac was clearly not happy but he was going to play ball, for now at least.

Sam watched Mac head out and unconsciously slipped his hand into Deans, even though he knew it was more for his own comfort than his brothers. He could feel his brother's body tremble under his touch almost as if the was shivering. "It's O.K bro. Nothing we can't handle." He whispered to the still silent Dean.

It took Mac just under five minutes to come back, this time accompanied by two men in overalls carrying a light weight stretcher. Dean's temperature hadn't dropped.

Squatting down next to Sam he spoke. "We're going to take him over to Doc Shaw's. It's just down the road and he keeps a room ready for minor emergencies, he'll meet us there."

Sam swallowed hard, trying to get his emotions under control. He was beginning to understand why his brother, hated being sidelined so much. Sometime it was the hardest thing in the world to stand back and watch others do what should have been your job. "What do you want me to do?"

Mac smiled and patted his arm reassuringly. "Just grab the icepacks and let these boys do their job."

Sam did as he was told and stepped out of the way.

"Boys?" joked the older of the two men as he set to work. "Son, I was here when your Granddaddy ran this place and you were running around knee high to a grasshopper. As I remember I had to take you over my knee a time or two for trying to pull a stunt likely to land you in a whole lot more trouble than this lad, here."

They lifted Dean with an easy competence and placed him on the stretcher, covering him with a single sheet before they headed towards the door.

"Don't worry Son, this ain't our first barbeque" Smiled the younger, although that wasn't saying much. "Sides El Capitano over there makes us practice for this kind of shit." The man grinned at Mac and said in mock deference. "Sorry boss, I mean stuff."

Mac just rolled his eyes at this little cabaret act, while Sam managed a faint smile understanding this was mostly for his benefit. Neither of the men were doing a good job of hiding their obvious affection for their 'young' boss.

Sam ducked to one side as they headed towards the door, he needed to gather Dean's stuff, it wouldn't do to leave any clues to their real identities. Gritting his teeth he headed back into the rapidly cooling kiln to get the clothes Dean had shed previously to add to the pile of shredded clothes he already carried.

Task completed he ran after the others.

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Sam sat at the side of Dean's bed trying to get a grip on the previous hour's events. It had been a short ride in the back of the companies van to the Doctors house and Sam had to admit the man seemed to be both competent and well equipped. He had wasted no time in getting Dean situated and starting an I.V, his manner brisk and efficient as he went through his initial assessment. Sam had stood in the corner watching him with Mac at his side listening to the Doctors monologue, letting Mac answer the occasional questions. He could remember every word they had said.

"What temperature did you say the kiln got up to, Mac?"

"The gauge read 111 but he'd managed to shoot out the observation window so it was probably a little lower where he was standing. His initial temperature was 105.8 but we had already started to cool him down by then" Answered Mac.

The doctor seemed to consider this for a moment but never looked up from his work as he spoke. "You wouldn't have been able to bring his temperate down more than a degree in such a short time period, so I'm guessing his internal temperature was a little above 106. If it had been any higher there would be no way he would still be on his feet and it's more than high enough to explain the fit." Then he had looked up and fixed them both with a steady gaze. "It's not good but it could be worse. I take it that the temperature increase he experienced was slow?"

"Yes, the kiln would have taken about an hour to reach that temperature." Mac had paled slightly when he had said that, clearly not liking any of them implications behind that statement, but then neither did Sam.

The doctor looked up giving Mac a sympathetic look, before turning to Sam who in stark contrast to his brother was standing soaked and shivering in the corner.

"Mac why don't you take Sam here back to the motel, so he can get a change of clothes"

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The sound of Dean's restless shifting drew Sam back to the present. "Its OK buddy your safe. I'm not going to let anyone hurt." He promised, shifting a hand through his brother's close cropped hair trying to get him to settle.

It had been about three hours since they had found Dean and he had yet to regain conciseness, but that didn't mean he was resting peacefully. The muscle spasms that had been plaguing him earlier were back making his body shiver uncontrollably and Sam could see his brother's eyes moving under his closed lid. Wherever it was that Dean's feverish mind was taking him, it couldn't be pleasant.

The Doctor warned him that Dean was unlikely to be coherent for a while yet, but he had assured Sam that like the shivering and heat rash, it would right itself as his brothers temperature began to come under control.

Sam leaned forward as some of his brothers fevered mumblings started to make sense.

"It's O'Kay Sammy. Daddy will get Mommy." Dean's voice sounded small and childlike as he whispered his quite litany to himself over and over again, and now at last Sam recognized it for what it was. A child's terrified prayer for rescue as he had stood watching his house burn with both his parents still inside.

Sam didn't know what to say. How could he reassure his brother that everything was going to be alright when it hadn't been? Mommy had never come back and Dean's life had changed forever.

Swallowing past the lump in his throat he did the best he could. "Ssshhhh" He soothed, continuing to run his hand over the top of his brothers still overly warm head. "Daddy will be here soon. You did good, You saved Sammy remember."

Dean began to struggle his movements jerky and uncoordinated. "No, Can't be ill. Have to look after Sammy." His words were slurred and barely recognizable but Sam understood them all too well and they hurt him even more than the idea that Dean had been reliving the fire that had killed their mother. 'Look after Sammy.' had been John Winchesters final command to Dean before leaving on a hunt for as long as Sam could remember and as a child Sam it had never occurred to Sam to think there was anything wrong with that.

It didn't seem odd to him that his brother had to pull a chair up to the stove in order to cook them dinner or that whenever he woke up during the night when their father was away his brother would already be awake ready to keep the monsters at bay. His brother was invincible and could do anything. It had never occurred to him that Dean was a child too and might need somebody to look after him as well. _Why did you do that to him Dad? He was only a child._ He wondered silently, even as he moved to comfort his brother as best he could.

"It's Okay Dean. Sammy's safe. You did a good job Dean. Dad's real proud of you." He reassured his brother until Dean finally settled back into something resembling restful sleep and Sam's mind once more began to wander.

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Sam hadn't wanted to go but as Mac had pointed out he wasn't going to help Dean if he fell flat on his face and besides which he was pretty sure 'James' would want some clothes when he woke up. It was the Doctor who had cast the deciding vote in the decision though, when he practically threw them out so he could 'get some peace to deal with his patient' although he did soften the deed somewhat by promising to be ready to give him a full report by the time they came back, so Sam had gone with Mac on the proviso that they only be 20 minute, although in the end it had only taken them 15.

Dr. Shaw must have been working steadily the entire time they were away because by the time they got back. Dean had been cleaned up and was lying in bed under a single sheet, his skin was an angry red color against the stark white of the sheet and the trembling in his brother's muscles that Sam had noticed earlier had developed into sporadic twitching. All in all it scared the hell out of Sam. An oxygen mask had been placed over Dean's face, which had initially concerned Sam but the Doctor had quickly explained that it was simply to provide humidified oxygen to help Deans parched lunges heal.

The Doctors report when it came was professional and succinct but not without compassion. "He's quite badly dehydrated and we're going to have to monitor his temperature closely for the next couple of day's as his body isn't going able to regulate it itself properly for at least that long but his temperature is now down to 102.8 so I'm quite optimistic he should recover well, although I'll be happier when he wakes. As for his other injuries, the slice on his arm should heal nicely and didn't require stitches. I've re-cleaned and dressed the wound to his shoulder, which I don't want to know about by the way, and it should also heal well, but it is his hands that have me a little worried. The pads of the hand have been badly scrapped and burned." The Doctor didn't have to explain how Dean had got these injuries; Sam could easily imagine his brother stoically ignoring the pain in order to continue searching for a way out. He must have been terrified. Sam knew how much fires scared him and why. It had made him feel sick to think he had been sitting down to milk and cookies while Dean had been being cooked alive. "They should heal well but the area involved and the type of injury is going to put him at risk of infection, so we'll have to monitor that as well." The Doctor gave Sam a steady look and a slight smile. "Sam honestly it isn't as bad as it looks. Like I said before I can't be entirely certain until he wakes up, but his temperature is dropping nicely, so I think his chances of making a full recovery are very good."

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The alarm on his phone going off startled Sam out of his reverie and nearly made him fall out of his chair, turning off the alarm he reached for the thermometer. Dr. Shaw had left strict instructions on how to monitor Dean's vitals before heading out to check on another patient. He had even told Sam that if he found out that Sam was aggravating his patient by constantly checking his temperature or prodding him to see if he would wake up he would sedate Sam and leave him to sleep it off in the back yard. Sam of course had scoffed at the very idea that he would do anything of the sort but now he had to admit it was tempting. He just wanted to know that his brother was alright and this waiting was killing him.

The thermometer beeped and Sam pulled it out of his brother's ear, smiling when he saw that his temperature had dropped another half a degree.

He was just about to settle down again and try and do some research when Dean started to cry out weakly in his sleep, his body twisting fretfully under the sheets. "Sammy. Please. No."

Sam just sat watching from his position besides Dean's bed. He didn't try and wake his brother or offer any comfort, he was too afraid he would hurt him even more because he didn't have to guess what Dean was dreaming about, he already knew. He hadn't told his brother yet but he remembered, he remembered what it had felt like to pull the trigger and the relief when Dean survived but it wasn't his relief, it was Megs because by the end she hadn't wanted to kill Dean she had wanted to make him suffer, and she had.

Tears started to run down his cheeks, the last few months had just been too much. So many things had changed for the both of them but this last couple of weeks in particularly, with his possession, had been final straw. He just couldn't do this anymore. Leaning forward he began to cry, his arms wrapped around his chest as he tried to hold himself together, fat tears dripping from his face. He didn't know how long he sat there gently rocking, before his brothers shifting motions once again drew his attention and he looked down to try and ascertain the source of his brother's distress.

Dean was shifting listlessly, muttering unintelligibly to himself clearly agitated about something. He couldn't figure out what was causing his brothers distress at first but then something caught his eyes, causing him to stare in fascination.

His own tears had been falling onto his brother's face, catching crystal like in his eyelashes and tracing tracks down the side of his face. Sam smiled as his brother continued to shift, his eyelashes fluttering as he attempted to dislodge the tears. It would seem that even unconscious Dean Winchester didn't want anyone to think he had been crying. "Sorry, bro." He murmured as he cupped the side of his brother's face and used his thumb to wipe away the offending tears. He was surprised when instead of pulling away from the touch as was Dean's usual want, his brother lent into the comfort of the touch, his eyelashes fluttering harder as he fought to open his eyes.

"Sammy? You alright?" Dean's voice was nothing more than a horse whisper, his eyes bleary and still unfocused but the words, the words were enough to make Sam laugh; Even though it sounded harsh and humourless to his ears. Dean was asking if he was alright. He had nearly died for the second time in two days and he was asking if Sam was alright as if that was the only thing that mattered. Sometimes his brother amazed him.

"Yeah, Dean I'm alright." He reached out and gently squeezed his brothers damaged hand, "How about you?"

"Funny dreams…It was raining." Dean mumbled, his voice trailing off as he drifted back to sleep.

Sam had to smile at that, there was no way he was ever going to tell his brother what had just happened.

Sam waited until Dean had fallen back to sleep before, he got up and headed towards the bathroom. He just needed a minute to pull himself together. He was doing his brother no good in his current state. Whatever had been attacking Dean was still out there and there were still two elements to go.

Splashing some cold water in his face, he gripped the edge of the sink and lent on it heavily as he drew in a couple of deep breaths, before raising his head to look himself in the eye. He would have liked to blame what he saw on the mirror but he knew that wasn't the case. _You looked like road kill_. Sam thought to himself smiling slightly as he wondered why his internal monolog sounded so much like his brother these days.

Moving out of the bathroom he was more than a little surprised to run into a very angry Sheriff Politska. "Sam, I want to know why you have been lying to me"

**Please Review. :)**


	5. Unexpected visitors

**Elements of doubt **

**Chapter 5: Unexpected visitors**

**Things are never going to be simple with a Winchester involved.**

**Sorry this took so long. There have just been so many changes in my life lately I honestly don't know which way is up anymore.**

**Please let me know what you think and if you have any suggestions that would be great to.**

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Sam took a step back at the woman's obvious anger, trying to put as much space between them as the tiny corridor would allow. _What did she know!?!_ The Sheriff had other ideas though and took a step forward, as she shoved a set of crime scene photos into his chest.

"Not only did you fail to mention that your **friend** has already been attacked. I now find out that you two travel around as if you're heading for some kind of survivalists convention."

Sam blinked and looked down at the pictures. The top one was of their motel room bathroom, the syringe and vial of adrenalin he had used to bring his brother back were clearly visible.

"Did you have a warrant to search our room?" Asked Sam automatically, still both worried and confused.

"No kid I didn't. Old Duke let me in after I heard what had happened up at the pottery, and you'd better be damn glad I didn't because I have a feeling you don't want me checking into some of this stuff too closely."

Sam almost sighed in relief as he finally figured out what must have happened. The Sheriff must have come to the same conclusion as he had, that the 'people' responsible for these attacks were marking the victims home with the symbol of the element used to attack the person prior to the actual event. In which case it was perfectly logical for her to rush over to their place to check for any symbols, to try and get ahead of the game.

"I didn't think it was related to the case." He paused. "I mean, I just thought it was an accident, that James had fallen getting out of the bath. His balance has been a little off since…"

"He got shot" Finished the Sheriff, giving Sam a hard stare as she did so. "Believe me son, that's number two on my list of things for you to explain."

Sam swallowed hard and began to explain "James was a field medic in the Marines and he tends to stock the first aid kit as if he still is one."

"You were military too?" She queried.

"Yes, Mam." Sam nodded.

_That would explain a thing or two.,_ thought the Sheriff, _Don't ask_, _don't tell only went so far even now a day._

"And the rest of the stuff?"

"It's mostly James Dad's stuff. He died recently and we were collecting his things. Now _he_ was a survivalist." Sam tried to sound casual but he found himself shifting uncomfortably under the woman's intelligent gaze. She wasn't buying this….at least not completely. Clearing his throat he, took another tack. "Can I just check on James, I don't like to leave him alone for too long?"

The Sheriffs stance softened a little and she nodded. "How is he?" she asked with genuine concern in her voice.

Sam reached up and pinched the bridge of his nose, suddenly feeling the full weight of the day's events. "He's been better." He sighed, heading back into his brothers room.

Dean was still out of it, the rash he had been sporting earlier had gotten worse. It was going to itch like a bitch when he came too enough to feel it.

The sheriff gave him a moment before resuming her questioning. "So how'd he get shot?"

Sam didn't take his eyes off his brother, as he answered. "Look it was a family problem, nobody died and there isn't going to be any more trouble." His words were insistent and he actually managed to put some sincerity into his voice because as far as it went it was true.

The Sheriff seemed to recognize the truth behind the words as well because she backed off the subject and pulled out a second set of crime scene photos, these ones of the pottery.

"You boys sure managed to piss someone off." She handed him a picture of the kilns disabled lock. "All the other attacks could have passed for accidents."

She gave him a searching look; before letting her gaze come to rest on the unconscious boy. "My guess is you two either know enough to make you a serious threat or you're about to."

Sam nodded and rubbed a tired hand across his face, he more than agreed with Sheriffs assessment of the situation. "I just wish I knew what it is we are supposed to know."

"Me too" Sighed the Sheriff.

"Look I'll show you what we've got maybe, you'll see something I've not." Said Sam tiredly, picking up his laptop and retaking his chair. Balancing the computer on his lap he hit the on switch with one hand as he brought the other up to pinch the bridge of his nose, as he once more tired to get his thoughts in order.

What happened next nearly sent both him and the laptop tumbling to the floor.

"Dean." He yelled angrily before he could think better of it, not that he was really thinking. His entire focus was on shutting up the computer which had just gone from asking him if he "_wanted to be its lover_" to demanding that he tell it what "_he wants, what he really, really wants_".

"Who the hell is Dean?" Demanded the Sheriff, all the good faith he had slowly been building up with her over the past few minutes evaporated, as the angry glare Sam had gave the unconscious man had left no doubt in her mind who he was talking about.

Snapping back into focus at the Sheriffs words, Sam took a moment to right himself and sort out the computer before answering. He needed time to think.

"It's a nick name, more of a joke really." He gave the Sheriff a pained and slightly lopsided grin as he finished off lamely. "You know James Dean. His Dad was James to so it kind of stuck."

The Sheriff relaxed fractionally, it certainly fit. The kid did have the look. What with the black car and the leather jacket. So why did she still have the feeling she was being lied to?

"Where's Wilber?" The yell was loud and panicked enough to make the two already tense people nearly jump out of their skins. They both instantly turned back towards Dean, who had lurched up right in obvious panic.

Sam dove across the room just in time to stop his brother falling off the bed. Wrapping an arm around Dean's shoulder trying to keep him upright, as he took a seat next to him

"Who the hell is Wilber?" Asked the Sheriff, lowering her hand from her gun and giving Sam a perplexed look, all these name changes were beginning to give her a headache.

Sam started laughing despite himself, hugging his confused and obviously delusional brother to his chest as he did so. He hadn't thought about Wilber in years. "He's a stuffed dog."

The Sheriff just stared at him as if he had gone mad.

Wilber had been Sam's favorite toy as a kid. He had loved the moth-eaten mutt unconditionally but Wilber had also been the bane of Dean's life, because Wilber liked to hide from Dean. Sometimes Sam would go with him but other times he would hide by himself. Unfortunately for them both Wilber was very good at hiding even from Sam, which invariably resulted in a distraught Sam and a frantic Dean.

Sam opened his mouth to explain then shut it again, when he realized he couldn't explain. Not fully, not without admitting Dean was his brother and being caught in yet another lie. "Wilber was his younger brothers stuffed dog. He kind of blamed him for all the tricks he played on James when they were little." Sam was surprised how much it hurt to deny Dean was his brother. He had spent four years away at University doing just that, but now… Well things had changed.

"Sam he's out to get me. I know he is." Insisted Dean his glazed eyes frantically scanning the room.

"It's O.K I won't let him get you." He reassured his brother, trying to quiet him before he threatened to hunt the little bitch down the same way he had the fabric softener teddy bear. He had never realized Wilber had quite such an effect on Dean.

But then, as Sam had grown up Wilber got more adventurous. Wilber put vinegar in Dean's school milk so he spit it out all over Alison Millbank and food dye in the shower gel so he had to spend a week looking like a Smurf. Wilber had done a lot of things over the years that would have made any sane person a little paranoid.

"Sheriff, do you think you could get the Doctor? I think his fever is spiking again."

"No kidding son. I'll be back in a moment." She gave him a hard look. "Don't go anywhere."

Of course, back then Sam hadn't exactly played fair with Dean. In fact he had twisted his brother around his little finger. Always managing to avoid the retribution he so richly deserved, by either scolding the stuffed dog or bursting into tears of mock regret. Even their Dad had let him get away with it for the most part, probably because he had found the sight of his bright blue eleven year old son literally streaking across the living room intent on murder as funny as hell. At least he had until he had worked out that the stuff didn't come off and Dean was going to have to go to school the next day.

Sighing Sam moved the semi-conscious man so he rested more securely against the headboard, so he could retrieve some of the supplies the Doctor had left when he had last checked in on them.

He'd only made it half way across the room when the solid thump of flesh hitting carpet stopped him dead.

"Shit!" Turning he dove back across the room just in time to catch hold of his brothers ankle, as Dean disappeared under the bed.

'_Damn, he should have been prepared for this.'_

Dean didn't get sick often, which was probably a good thing because pretty much any kind of fever was enough to have him higher than your average junky. This was not going to be fun. Getting Dean to go to the Doctors was a challenge at the best of times, with a fever it was like dealing with a two year. At least it would be if the two year old stood over 6ft and had a black belt.

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Sheriff Politska wasn't quite prepared for the scene she walked in on. Sam's long form lay sprawled across the small room's floor, his head and shoulders hidden under the bed. Her first thought was that Sam had had some kind of accident but then she heard his voice come drifting out from under the bed, the words gentle and cajoling and just a little bit exasperated. It was a tone she had used often enough herself when dealing with her own sons.

A quick glance to her side showed her that the good natured little Doctor was finding the scene just as funny as she was, especially when she started to pick up on James adamant and somewhat petulant refusals to come out and face him.

"This kid really doesn't like Doctors, does he?" He whispered. Then with a conspiratorial smile he squatted down to better address the bed.

"James." He queried, but didn't get a reply.

"Try Dean" Offered the Sherriff.

Shaw gave her an odd look but tried anyway.

"Dean? Why don't you come out Son? It can't be too comfortable down there."

The reply when it came was too muffled to be heard by anyone but Sam, although judging by the boys response it couldn't have been positive.

"Dean! Out, now!" Barked Sam, the order came out with enough John Winchester in it to guarantee Deans obedience… or at least it would have if he hadn't smacked his head off the bottom of the bed in the process.

The sheriff had to bite her fist to stop joining in Dean's laughter as Sam's body went momentarily limp from a combination of pain and humiliation.

Exchanging a knowing look with Shaw, they grabbed a leg each and pulled.

Leaving the boy to rub his head, they repeated the process depositing a now compliant Dean back on the bed.

Politska couldn't help but return Dean's unfocused and slightly goofy grin as she helped him back into bed. It wasn't that her misgivings had disappeared. It was just that over two decades in law enforcement, the last 10 as a small town Sheriff had taught her two things. First to trust her instincts and second if it ain't relevant to the case at hand sometime you're just better off not knowing. Whatever they're secrets these boys weren't a threat to anyone.

Except maybe themselves

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Sam reached up to squeeze the back of his neck in the vain hope of relieving some of the tension that had built up there. He was really beginning to feel the effects of the day. His head was killing and now that the adrenalin had finally worn off it was all he could do keep his eyes open.

I had been a good few hours since Deans little escaped and he was now sleeping soundly, having nodded off without giving any sign of returning sanity. To be honest the whole situation had Sam more than a little freaked out, his brother could be a bit of an odd ball at the best of times but right now he was acting downright nuts. There was no way he could hope to defend himself against whatever came next, and there would definately be a next.

Still even half crazy he had somehow managed to win the Sheriff over. The woman had been acting downright maternal towards Dean by the time she left. At the very least they didn't have to be worrying about getting arrested anytime soon.

Doctor Shaw had been in about an hour ago to check on Dean before retiring for the evening and seemed to be more than satisfied with his brothers' condition despite the phlegm filled gurgle that seemed to have added itself to his already congested snores since the last time the doctor had come to visit. The noise sounded like someone was torturing small animals at the bottom of a well and it was getting on his nerves in the worst possible way, but however bad the sound was it wasn't as bad as it's occasional absence which really got Sam's heart pounding. It was all he could do not to shake his brother awake just to check he was still breathing.

Trying to gather his fractured thought into some sort of _semi_-cohesive plan, he got up and began to pace the perimeter of the room. It would need to be secured against more than just physical threats before he dared get any sleep himself.

Pausing by the open window he gazed out across the darkened lawn scanning for any potential threats. A faint breeze wafted through the window and caressed his face, momentarily distracting from his task. It carried with it the faint salty tang of the ocean, which should have struck him as odd for this land locked state but it was just so calming. Drawing in a deep breath to better enjoy the odd sensation, he let himself relax for the first time in what felt like weeks. It was a beautiful night.

Abandoning all other plans he lay down on the rooms' one unoccupied bed and slipped gently to sleep.

A wisp of black smoke slipped tendril like through the window bringing with it the sound of distant wind chimes. It moved purposefully across the room, its music changing as it approached the elder of the two brothers, becoming more discordant. The tendril seemed to solidify slightly as it caressed his exposed throat. Causing the young man to whimper in his sleep as he sought to pull away from the familiar and terrifying presence, but his battered body would let him rouse himself and after a moment the smoke moved on, leaving the faint sound of laughter in its wake.

Approaching the younger boy its music once more changed, taking on a seductive quality that was almost hypnotic to listen to. Pausing over the sleeping boys open mouth it allowed its self to be breathed in as Sam moaned softly from the pleasure the music brought.

At the other side of the room Deans agitation increased as he subconsciously reacted to a threat to his brother he couldn't even begin to understand.

Please Review. :)


	6. Escalation

**Elements of doubt **

**Chapter 6: Escalation**

**Things spiral out of control when Dean disappears. **

**Thanks, Tacpebs and apieceofcake for the kind reviews, and thanks purehalo. I was beginning to think work had made me loose my sense of humour entirely or at least go slightly mad**

**Well this is a little quicker than the last time. I hope it's O.K.**

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"Dude, I'm not two, I don't _do_ bath time. Besides which that's just plain gross."

Dean eyed the porridge filled bath with a mixture of resignation and disgust. It was bad enough that he was currently as weak as a kitten. Now Sam had gone into complete mother hen mode and was sticking to him like some kind of floppy haired mutant Labrador. It was getting on his nerves and to cap it all off his heat rash still hadn't gone away and was itching so badly it made him reconsider shooting himself just so he could get a little relief.

Hence the oatmeal bath, a truly charming suggestion from the good Doctor, made after he refused to prescribe anything steroidal for his itching because of his current half baked, half drowned condition.

"Stop being such a wimp Dean. It's not as if you haven't been in one of these before."

"Sam, last time we landed ourselves in one of these, you ate the porridge."

"Dude, I was like three."

"Still it was gross." Commented Dean, as he tried to put off the inevitable.

"Dean." Warned Sam, he wasn't willing to take no for an answer on this one. Deans constant scratching was driving him insane.

O.K. Fine" He bitched, unwilling to admit that he would do just about anything to stop the itching right about now. Still this was pretty gross, even by their standards.

Sitting on the edge of the tub he slowly lowered himself into the paste like substance, grimacing as he did so. He was suddenly doubly grateful for his stubborn refusal to strip down any further than his boxers for this little culinary experiment. There was just some places he did not want this stuff to go, however good it was at stopping itching.

Sam had to laugh as the look of complete disgust plastered across his brothers face quickly gave way to one of almost orgasmic ecstasy, as the itching suddenly eased.

"Dude just shut up."

There was real irritation in his brothers' voice so he eased back on his laughter. They had already had one fight this morning over Sam's constant hovering and he wasn't yet willing to have another. Not when the last fight had caused Dean's temperature to spike again.

Humming softly he tried to force himself to calm down and remember that his brother was in pain and not just being a pain.

The gentle humming began to take on a vague sort of tune, as his breathing began to calm and his mind drift, if he could just remember where he had heard the tune before.

Then his body was moving, fluid and sure. It should have worried him that he had never intended to move but it didn't.

His brother lay, now almost fully submerged. Completely oblivious to what was going on around him as the pain and discomfort bled out of his body, leaving him in a semi-conscious haze.

Sam watched with a distracted sort of interest as his hands moved of their own accord, it was like watching a play from the end of a tunnel.

He didn't even pause before he pushed his brother's head under the water.

Dean's mind jumped into full consciousness at the familiar sensation of being forced under, as the sludgy liquid closed over his head for the first time in a long time he panicked.

'_Where the hell was Sam?'_

Sam listened to the sound of his brother heels pound a futile tattoo on the end of the tub, but the frantic beat didn't help him remember anymore of the tune in his head, so he shut it out.

In a last desperate bid for life, Dean stopped fighting and let himself be pushed fully under, then in a repeat of his move from two days before he kicked up hard.

He never expected to hit anything not after the last time, so when his feet connected with a solid object and the pressure released from his head, it took him a moment to realize what had happened. When he did he used the last of his strength to heave his body over the side of the tub and back himself firmly into the corner as he tried to clear enough of the paste like oatmeal out of his eyes to see his attacker.

Sam hit the ground hard, the pain from his nose bringing the world back sharply back into focus. Clutching his head against the sudden waves of nausea that over took his senses he squeezed his eyes tightly shut as he began to heave up tendrils of black smoke.

When he finally managed to force his eyes open, the sight that greeted him came close to ripping his heart out.

Dean had crammed himself into the corner between the bath and the wall, a look of fear and betrayal etched into his features.

The two brothers could only sit and stare at each other unable to deal with the ramification with what had just happened. They stared at each other for what seemed like hours but it was probably only seconds. They stared at each other until the bathroom door flew open with enough force to make it rebound off its frame as Politska and Shaw burst in, the Sheriff taking the lead.

Politska blinked once in surprised before going into full command mode. Reaching down she pulled Sam to his feet and pushed him towards the door and Doctor Shaw.

"Take him down stairs and patch him up. I'll see to Dean." She ordered.

Shaw nodded and pulled the shocked and bleeding young man down the corridor after him.

Politska squatted down and stared at the elder of the two boys, unsure what to do next despite her outward confidence. The tremors that had been plaguing him earlier were back in full force but it was easy to see that wasn't the only reason he was shaking.

"Damn boy." She sighed "What trouble have you got yourself into now?"

She reached briefly for a towel before changing her mind. With the stuff he was covered in it would probably just stick to him.

"Come on kid let's get you sorted out." Reaching down to pull the kid to his feet, she wasn't particularly surprised when he flinched slightly at her touch, but he had cleared enough of the goop out of his eyes to see who she was and didn't fight her when she pushed him into the bathrooms small shower and turned the water on, not caring that she got soaked in the process.

Dean's mind was reeling. His brother had tried to kill him! He just couldn't get his head past it. One minute they were talking, bickering as usual, the next he was trying to drown him.

The kid had sunk to the bottom of the cubical, his arms wrapped tightly around his knees. It was clearly the only way he could stay even this upright.

Placing a hand on his back she could feel his heart pounding against the walls of his chest, his breathing coming evenly only as an act of will as he fought for control.

She had to admit she was impressed most people would be curled up on the floor crying at half of what this young man had been through lately.

She was also strangely touched that he trusted her enough to let even this much weakness show. He didn't strike her as someone who trusted easily or who let people see more of him than he wanted them too.

"Keep your eyes shut while I clean this stuff off for you. O.K?"

Dean nodded into his arms, still too distracted to really care what was going on around him. Now he was feeling a little calmer. He KNEW it couldn't have been Sam. It just couldn't have been. He knew his brother and Sam wouldn't do that.

Or at least that was what his mind was telling him. It was just that after everything that had happened in the last few months, their fathers revelation and Sam's possession only days before, he couldn't entirely shake the fear.

Politska finished cleaning the worst of the crap off the boy's hair and face before turning the water off and squeezing his arm slightly to get him to look at her.

"So did you and your brother just have a fight or do I have something bigger to worry about?" She asked, once she was sure she had got his attention.

Dean's eyebrows shot up at the Sheriff referring to Sam as his brother. _Were they really that obvious?_

The Sheriff just rolled her eyes at his shocked expression. "If you two were really knocking boots, I doubt you would be quite so modest." She stated blandly, indicating his goo incrusted shorts.

Dean eyebrows shot the rest of the way up to his hairline before he caught the mischievous glint in the Sheriffs eye and he realized he was being made fun of. "No Mam." He agreed, giving her a slight smile.

Politska smiled back at him please that she had guess right, teasing the boy had been the right way to go in getting him to calm down.

Pulling herself together she gave him an apprising look before continuing. "Dean I need you to answer a question for me and I need you to be totally honest."

Dean shifted uncomfortable under her sharp gaze but nodded.

"This thing you're running away from. I need to know how bad it is. I need you to tell me if you were responsible?"

Dean swallowed hard. "They think…"

She cut him off. "That's not what I'm asking Dean. I need to know if you hurt anyone."

Dean shook his head, meeting her eyes as he did so. "No Mam. We were just trying to help."

"Like here."

"Yes Mam." He licked his lips wondering how much he should say. In the end he just shrugged. "It was…. complicated."

Politska pinched the bridge of her nose. She was beginning to get the picture. "Like here." She sighed, meeting Deans knowing gaze as she did so.

"Yes Mam. Like here."

They sat in silence for a moment until the Sheriff noticed that Dean had started to shiver.

Getting up she reached down and pulled him to his feet, holding him steady until she was sure he would stay up right.

"Think you can take it from here?" She asked.

He nodded and reached for the taps.

Politska gave his arm a reassuring squeeze and headed out of the door.

"I'll be outside if you need me."

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Shaw had barely got Sam into the kitchen before the boy all but keeled over, heaving his gut out into the sink.

_He had tried to kill his brother. He had nearly killed Dean._

He was shaking so badly by the time he had finished throwing up that he barely registered it when Shaw pulled him to sit by the table.

"Let's have a look at you now, shall we, Son." He said kindly.

Sam just let him do whatever he needed to do without comment. He just didn't care. He barely even flinched when Shaw reset his nose.

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Getting cleaned up turned out to be more of a challenge than he would have ever imagined. Fifteen minutes after Politska had headed out of the door he was sitting on the flooring in the bathroom in clean boxers wondering why getting his T-shirt on had suddenly become such a challenge.

"We should probably re-dress those wounds of yours before for you put that on anyway."

Dean looked up at the Sheriffs as she came to squat in front of him, first aid kit in hand and nodded his assent.

It only took her a minute to get the hole in his shoulder and the bullet crease along his arm covered up, but she paused at his hands, turning them over and frowning at the damaged palms. Most of the blisters he had gained the day before had broken during his struggles with Sam and his palms looked angry and raw.

"I think we had better get the Doc have a look at these. If we let them seize up, they're not going to be of much use to you."

Politska sighed; the boy really was in a sorry state. Under normal circumstances she had no doubt that he would be bitching up a storm over her cavalier treatment of him. Picking up his T-shirt, she shoved her arms through the holes and grabbed his wrists, dropping the T-shirt over his head with practiced ease before he even had the chance to protest, although Dean still managed an indignant scowl at being treated like a child.

"I have three sons each of them more stubborn than a mule and a husband who still thinks he's invincible despite all evidence to the contrary. If you think I can't handle you boy you've got another thing coming." She informed him matter of factly, a note of challenge in her voice. "Come on let's get you back to bed."

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Sam couldn't even look at his brother when he re-entered the room. He just stared at the lump in the bed that indicated his brother's feet.

"I'll give you boys a minute."

Sam nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound of the Sheriffs voice, although why he didn't know. Calming himself down he kept staring at the same spot on the bed even after he heard the door close, unable to look at Dean for fear of what he might see.

Dean stared at his brother, taking in the hunched shoulders and the downcast eyes. The kid was doing one hell of a job of beating himself up. He could feel the waves of self recrimination and self doubt rolling off him from the other side of the room, and somehow it made him feel better. Not that Sam was hurting but that he was still his geeky, overly emotional, pain in the ass younger brother.

"Sam, look at me Dude."

Sam did what he was told, taking in his brothers pale shaking form. Buried under a pile of blanket and looking a thousand times worse than he had when he had gotten up this morning.

"Oh Man. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean. I…"

Dean cut off his brother's angst filled ramblings. "Sam its O.K., I know it wasn't you." And he did. Whatever others might think, including their father, Sam just didn't have it in him to be a cold blooded killer.

"It looks like the big bad guy does a pretty nifty line in possession."

"I don't think so Dean, it didn't feel like before. It felt like me. Besides..." He held up his wrist to prove that Bobby's anti-possession charm was still hanging there.

Dean just snorted. "So it wasn't a demon Sam. I didn't really think it was anyway, but we both know there's more than one way to get inside somebody's head. We just need to figure out what we're deal with and kill it. Then everything will be fine."

Sam had to smile at that. His brother's view on life was so simple at times. It ran along the lines of protect Sam, kill bad guy, chase girls and beer. It was once of the few constants in his life and it was reassuring as hell, but he wasn't willing to cut himself a break just yet.

"Dean…." He trailed off. He just didn't know what to think. It had felt strange but it had felt like him. Like at least part of him had wanted to do it.

"No Sam. It wasn't you. I know you and that wasn't you."

Dean gave him a hard look, willing him to take in what he was saying. It wasn't like Sam to doubt himself like this.

When Sam finally nodded, he asked. "So… we good?"

Sam smiled gratefully. He still wasn't sure if he entirely believed his brother. After all Dean would probably forgive him if he had intended to kill him, but he loved the big idiot for that and having him around made him feel safe in a way that he couldn't even begin to explain.

Dean reached out and gave his brother a playful whack on the arm. Only to yelp at the sudden and painful reminder of how damaged his hands really were.

"You're an idiot you know that? Did it even occur to you not to do that?" Sam grinned at his grimacing brother. The tension in the room suddenly broken,

"Can it Rocky. I can still kick your ass."

Sam reached up and gently touched his plastered nose.

A brief flicker of pain played across his brother's face and Sam instantly regretted his obvious play for sympathy, but then it was gone and Dean grinned.

"Damn right Bitch."

"Jerk" Replied Sam returning his brother grin.

"Not to interrupt this touching moment but I've got bad news." Both of their heads shot up to face, the grim faced Sheriff. "Martin Hardy's dead."

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An hour later the three of them were sitting in the middle of piles of papers and photos, sipping coffee, or at least Sam and the Sheriff were, Dean had hot chocolate having been banned from ingesting anything that could be considered a stimulant.

"Not even a frigging marshmallow" Bitched Dean, staring at his drink in utter disgust.

Sam smirked slightly, but chose to ignore his brothers bitching. It didn't do to encourage him.

"So they're still calling it an accident even though a patient dying in a third story room from a gas leak that originated in the basement, without anyone else even catching a whiff of the gas has to be…." Sam threw his arms up in frustration. "I don't know but it must be really big."

"The Coroner ruled it a "freak" accident if it helps" Commented the Sheriff, with a hint of grim humor underlying her voice.

Running a hand through her hair in a gesture of frustration she continued. "I've got to admit I'm at my wits end over this. I just don't get how these accidents are being pulled off; there are just too many variables involved. We don't even have a clear connection between the people who are being targeted."

Running a hand through her hair for a second time, she gave them a self deprecating smirk. "I even passed the files by the FBI for all the good it did me. They just passed me off as some Hicksville Sheriff jumping at shadows. I doubt anyone even read the file."

"Feds" Snorted Dean from around a mouth full of donut, clearly indignant on the Sheriffs behalf.

Sam had to agree, Politska was the sharpest investigator they had come across in a long time, even without their specialized knowledge she was still well up in the game.

The Sheriff nodded her agreement with Dean's statement. "There was a time they taught those boys something before they let them loose in the world. Nowadays you're lucky if they can find their asses with both hands."

Dean finished up his donut, a somewhat messy affair considering both his hands were now bandaged and started shifting through the victims photos, laying them out on the bed in a slightly thoughtful manner.

"There is a pattern though." He stated quietly.

Sam gave him a surprised look as the Sheriff shifted forward in her seat; neither of them seeing it.

"I figured you wouldn't get it genius." Dean teased his brother.

"Just look at these people. You've got a writer, an architect and an artist, and that's just to begin with. That may be a normal enough mix up at Stanford, but none of these guys are exactly your average Joe, so I recon it's not around here. Plus each of these fields has at least a loose association with one of the Muses."

Sam just stared at this brother. It was very easy to forget sometimes that Dean did this for a living, and he was very good at his job.

Dean grinned. "What? If you didn't want me to learn anything, you shouldn't have child proofed the laptop."

"Dude, I only did that because you kept…." Sam eyes widened. "Dean were you looking at the naked statues?"

Dean just grinned, leaving it up to Sam's imagination.

Sam just stared at his brother in disbelief, Part of him new that Dean was just winding him up, but the other part was just disturbed.

Politska smiled at their antics. These two reminded her so much of her own sons it just wasn't funny. Of course her eldest was fifteen. God she hoped they grew up before they reached their age.

"So we're back to the Greeks then?" She still didn't get it but she was getting the impression it was beginning to mean something to the boys.

"Looks like." Hedged Sam, he wasn't willing to say too much until he had had the chance to talk to Dean alone, but a little general history wouldn't hurt. "Some of the older Greek myths assigned certain desirable characteristics of each of the elements, although which ones varied between myths. They would use the element as part of their initiation rites, to test the worthiness of the candidate."

"So these people's talents are just the starting point. Whatever is doing this is looking for something else from them as well." She frowned slightly "Then that would mean the second victim is just…"

"The carrot" Finished Dean his face grim "A way to make sure the other person goes through with the test."

"Dean. I'm …" Sam trailed off, the look on Deans face cutting his short.

"It's O.K Sammy."

But it wasn't, it was bad enough that Dean had had to go through what he did but to be told that in the grand scheme of things you had no worth beyond his use in controlling the one person left in the world he had sworn to protect. The worst thing for Sam though was the look in his brothers' eyes when he had tried to talk to him about it. Dean had always been his protector and to be used in this way had to hurt, but it was more than that it was as if he agreed, he didn't matter as much as Sam.

"I think we screwed up the pattern when we rescued Sarah." He said trying to justify his selection in a way that wouldn't belittle his brother. "I probably got picked because I was the closest to the actual incident."

Dean just snorted not believing any of it.

Politska shifted uncomfortably, aware that she was witnessing something intensely personal. Reaching for her hat, she got up to go.

They had been thrashing things out for over an hour now, and while they now had a better idea of the motivation behind what was happening they were no closer to find out who or what was doing this than before.

"I'm going to head back out and see if I can dig up any more information."

Dean looked up and met her eyes. "Thanks Sheriff." He said slightly awkwardly, _for everything _clearly written across his face.

The Sheriff gave him a fond smile. "Call me Pol." She tipped her head in Sam's direction. "It'll save on some confusion."

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"Dean" Tried Sam again, once the Sheriff had left.

"I said no Sam." He didn't want to talk about it. THERE WAS NOTHING TO TALK ABOUT. There was no way in hell he was letting whatever trice damned freak that was doing this use him to get to Sam, it just wasn't happening.

"We need to get out of here. Get somewhere we can defend."

Sam nodded. "Pol might let us get away with covering this place with protective sigil but I don't think Shaw is going to be quite so accommodating."

Dean sighed, resting back against the pillows. "We still got the motel room?"

"Yeah, it's better than nothing I suppose."

"At least it's private." Dean gestured towards the door. "You'd better talk to Pol and see if she can spring us."

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The Sheriff hadn't been all that happy about letting them head out on their own but she'd let them have their way. Understanding there were some things about the situation she still didn't know. Not that she liked it very much.

So two hours later they were back in their motel room surrounded by every kind of supernatural defense their father had ever taught them. The room looked like a set from a horror movies or a psychopath's layer.

Sam was engrossed in his research, leaving Dean to find his own amusement, which pretty much boiled down to annoying Sam. He was currently half way through a spirited rendition of 'Highway to Hell'. Under normal circumstances Dean could actually hold at tune, which meant that when he put his mind to it he could miss every note with amazing accuracy. Add to that the tremendous amount of phlegm he was currently capable of producing and the annoying Sam plan was going pretty well.

"Fine!" shouted Sam slamming the laptop closed. "What do I have to do to get you to shut up?"

'_Mission accomplished'_, grinned Dean.

"Coffee would be a start."

"What? No! The Doctor said no stimulants."

"That was hours ago. Besides," He grinned, wickedly. "The Doctor doesn't have to put up with me."

"No Dean. I'm not leaving you to go get coffee and you're not going out" Announced Sam sternly.

"Fine" He smiled back, drawing in a deep breath to start again.

"Okay…Okay." Sam held his hands up in defeat. "Dukes got coffee down in reception. Will that do?"

Dean just grinned in triumph.

"You even move and I'm handcuffing you to the bed."

"Kinky, Sammy, Haven't you already got us enough of a reputation?"

"I mean it Dean. You don't let anyone in."

"Yes. Mom" The elder Winchester rolled his eyes. Sam sure could get his panties in a twist.

Sam chucked him his phone and grabbed his wallet. Then giving his brother one last looked of disgust, headed out the door, locking it behind him.

Waving at the Sheriff's Deputy Politska had stationed out on the street, he walked into the small reception.

"Back again Lad?" Greeted Duke

"Yeah, just looking for some coffee"

"Sure. Just put a fresh pot on, it'll be off in a minute."

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Dean slumped back against the pillows still grinning from his victory. Sammy was so easy to manipulate. It was an easy bet that he didn't even remember, the chick-flick moment he had been planning over the whole 'Carrot' revelation.

A quiet rap on the door shook him from his revelry.

That was strange; Sam had definitely taken his key. It was worrying but knocking on the door was hardly the usual way to announce a supernatural attack. Getting up and peaking through the closed blinds, he was more than a little surprised to see Eileen from the pottery standing on the doorstep. The young woman was bouncing on the balls of her feet, a large take out bag clutched to her chest.

The sight of the take-out bag reminded him that he hadn't actually eaten anything but a donut in the last 24 hours. He should have told Sam to grab some food as well.

Stomach grumbling he stuck his gun down the back to the sweat pants he was wearing and he reached for the door handle. Surly even Sam couldn't object?

"HI James." She greeted the opening door cheerfully.

Her eyes widened slightly at his disheveled appearance, but she recovered quickly, just giving him a sympathetic look instead.

"Mac asked me to stop by and check in on you." She smiled winningly, waving the bag at him. "Chinese?"

Dean grinned and slipped out the door, stepping over the salt line as he did so, carefully closing the door behind as he did so, it wouldn't do of Eileen to see the state of the room.

Giving her his most charming grin, he replied, "Sounds great."

Eileen returned his flirtatious smile, she handed him the large bag.

Struggling slightly due to his damaged hands, he had to use both hand to hold the bag to his chest.

"Oh I'm sorry. I didn't realize." She apologized, reaching forward to help but only succeeded in causing him to lose his grip on the bag.

It took Dean a second to even register the sharp stab of pain in his arm, he was so preoccupied with not spilling the food but he didn't miss the sluggish feeling that was overtaking his body.

"You Bitch. What did you do to me?" He slurred, as he fought to get back into the room.

He didn't make it.

**Please Review. :)**


	7. Earth

**Elements of doubt **

**Chapter 7: Earth**

**Another element comes into play and Deans on his own for this one.**

**O.K confession time, I haven't looked at the reviews since I put my last chapter up. I was too embarrassed. So sorry that I didn't reply to anyone, but thank you all very much for reviewing and thanks for the concern Alena. All I can say is in the last year if it can happen it has happened, fortunately it mostly been good; just time consuming.**

**Also just to let you know the next chapter is done and the final chapter is underway, so the gaps won't be as long as last time.**

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"HEY, Sam!" shouted a voice.

Sam paused with his foot resting on the bottom step of the staircase leading to the motels small second floor, coffees in hand and looked around in confusion, only to spot Mac jogging towards him.

"Hey, Mac" He smiled as the man came to lean against the railing next to him.

"How's James?" Queried Mac, genuine concern seeping through his words

"Good enough to be annoying the Hell out of me." Grinned Sam,

Mac laughed. "Well I guess that's good."

Sam was definitely beginning to like this guy.

"Here, this is for you." Mac lifted the large Tupperware pot he was holding. "Chicken noodle soup. My wife made it."

He gave Sam a slightly sheepish grin. "I probably wouldn't eat it if I were you."

A wicked grin slowly started to spread across Sam's face, as he contemplated how he could use this to his advantage. "Don't worry; I'm sure **James** will love it."

Mac just rolled his eyes, clearly thinking it was better not to get involved. "Speaking of James, I brought this for him."

Sam glanced up at their room's door, before putting down the coffees and taking the bag from Mac. Opening the bag he was more than a little surprised to pull out a small elegant looking vase. It was definitely not something he would ever think to give Dean.

Seeing his confusion, Mac explained. "One of Chris's students made it. I showed James some of her previous work up at the pottery." The corner of his mouth began to twitch with amusement and his voice became heavy with sarcasm as he continued. "He was very complimentary."

A bad feeling began to creep its way up Sam's spine. "I take it this is an improvement?"

Mac raised an eyebrow when Sam failed to see the humor in the gift, but he answered anyway. "Yes a big one. To be honest I've no idea where it came from." He shrugged. "Maybe spoilt little rich girls do make good artists after all."

"So this just came out of the blue?"

That bad feeling had just turned into full blown alarm.

"Yeah, to be honest I never would have thought Hilly would have had it in her. After all she might crack a nail. If she keeps this up I might actually have to give her a job."

The gears in Sam's head began to snap into place. This was so not good.

"Sorry Mac. I've got to get back."

Mac gave him a funny look, clearly disturbed by Sam's sudden odd behavior. "O.K just let me know if you need anything."

Sam just nodded as he headed up the stairs, his arms once more full.

Reaching the door he swiftly opened it, calling out as he did so. "Dean we've got a problem!"

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Dean shifted uncomfortably, his sleep addled brain trying to figure out when it had started raining. It sounded like he was in the middle of a tropical down pour, and come to think of it when had he added his knees to the long list of things that hurt?

He let out a pained groan as the memory of his abduction resurfaced to taunt him. Could this get any more embarrassing? Sam was going to kick his butt into the next state over this. Worse still was going be the constant comments about which brain he was actually supposed to be using.

Moving his head to the side, he was more than a little surprised when he somehow succeeded in ramming his nose into some kind of corner. The sharp pain caused him to try and jerk up right, only to find out he already was.

'_Had he literally fallen asleep on his feet? At least that would explain the knees.'_

Opening his eyes, he let out a startled gasp at the sight that greeted him.

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Sam searched the small room with a rising sense of panic. Dean was nowhere to be found. Throwing the door open and he yelled down to the Deputy. "Charlie! Get the Sheriff!"

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O.K this was not good. Dean straightened up and immediately cracked his head on the boxes low ceiling. Whoever had made this thing had clearly underestimated his height.

'_Damn Sam. The kid was a frigging Sasquatch; no one looked their right size with him around.'_

The container was clear Perspex and about the size of your average coffin. Which in itself wasn't an encouraging thought, but it was the scene outside the box that really raised his hackles.

Anger flooded his system, clearing out the cobwebs from his brain and allowing him to focus. He was stuck in the set of a bad horror movie, or worse yet one of those lame Saturday morning cartoons where the villain insisted in trying to kill the insanely perky hero in the most ludicrous way possible.

He was in some kind of silo; he could see the metal walls only feet away.

There was no way Eileen could have got him in here herself and unlike the other attacks he had been subjected to, this just didn't have a supernatural feel to it, it was just too shoddy. Even the box was badly made and over the top, with a large shinny padlock located at waist height. Whoever this merry band of psychopaths that had kidnapped him were; they seemed to have lost their other worldly back-up, at least for the time being.

'_Or maybe they were just getting a taste for blood and wanted to get their hands dirty.'_ He thought morosely.

It wasn't a nice thought but it was the little things in this twisted little game that seemed back the theory up. Like how the box had been set up to give him a great view of the silos ladder only feet away for him. They had probably seen Saw one too many times but were either too squeamish or to stupid to get truly creative. For God's sake somebody had hung the pad lock key a foot from his face on the other side of the Perspex. But the real clincher on the cartoon villain front, the thing that added the ticking clock to the whole scenario was the sand, it fell from the ceiling in a steady stream, bouncing off the roof of the box with a near deafening roar. It had already reached as far as his chest and was still rising.

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"Sam. I need you to focus here."

Sam brought his attention back to the Sheriff and her growing posse of Deputies and towns people. She looked stressed, worry etching deep lines around her eyes and pulling her lips into a tight line. It had already been forty minutes since Dean had disappeared.

"What was Dean wearing when you last saw him?"

Sam licked his dry lips, he needed time to think. He needed to get ahead of the game and this really wasn't helping. Still.

"Grey sweats and a black Metallica T-shirt." Sam winced slightly at the memory of the T-shirt. He had given it to Dean on his twenty-first Birthday.

Going to the concert had been one of the last things they had done together as a family before Sam had left for college. Both he and their Father had unbent enough to actually enjoy the day; Even going as far as to gang up on Dean for his overly enthusiastic participation in some of the concerts stranger rituals. It had been a good day and the fact that his brother seemed to need a reminder of those times told him just how much he was really hurting.

Snapping back to the present he finished. "His biker boots were missing too."

"You heard the man." Pol's voice carried easily across the small crowd. "We're on a deadline people. You have your assignments and your check in schedules. Keep to them. You see anything suspicious you call in. No one goes anywhere alone and nobody makes a move without my say so. Got it?"

Men and Women nodded their faces grim. They may not really understand what was going on or what was being asked of them but the town had been touched by enough tragedy lately that they were willing to fight to prevent anymore.

It brought back the sheriffs words from earlier. "I don't care what is doing this Sam. This is my town and nobody else is going to die. Not on my watch." She had looked him straight in the eye then. "I'll do whatever it takes."

He had to feel sorry for her, she had been skirting around the edge of the supernatural on this case for a while now, but Sam had just asked her to take the kind of leap of faith that most people weren't even capable of and then just to suck it up and get on with her job. All on the basis of a five minute course on supernatural 101 and the word of a man she hadn't even met until a couple of days ago, but she had done just that. Swinging into action as if she was a cross between a marine drill sergeant and a pissed off momma Cougar. It was a sight to behold. Dean would be sorry he'd missed it.

"Jake." Pol motioned for an older man with a shaggy head of graying hair, to come over and join them.

"Jake when you worked up at the Ashton estate, do you remember there being any old mines or caves?"

Jake shook his head. "Nope, nothing like that, but there's a whole bunch of outbuildings nobody uses anymore though."

Pol nodded and rubbed a hand across the back of her neck. '_That would just be too easy wouldn't it?' _

"I'm going to need you to check those for me Jake but I need you to do something else for me to. I need you to talk to Laurence Ashton and find out as much as possible about what Hilly's been up to lately. I also need you to find out where she is and I need you to do it without making anyone suspicious."

Jakes weathered face paled but he didn't seem shocked, a fact that made Pol raise her eyebrow.

"Jake?" She queried, the 'What do you know?' clear in her voice.

"Sheriff" Pleaded Jake, clearly uncomfortable.

"Jake." She countered and Jakes shoulders slumped in defeat.

"She's not a bad kid. I've known her all her life and she's not a bad kid, but lately…"

"Lately?" encouraged the Sheriff.

"Lately she's been acting strange, it's got Larry worried. One minute she's happy the next she's jumping at every shadow and……………" He swallowed hard. "Things have been going missing."

"What kind of things?" Asked Sam

Jake shot him a look as if he didn't like talking about this in front of stranger, but then he answered.

"Old stuff, Out of Larry' private collection" He shifted his attention back to Pol, wanting her to understand. "Larry was worried about drugs, which is why he was talking to me"

Jakes own son had gone down that route back in the 80's. He was buried in the towns' small grave yard.

"It's not drugs though is it?"

"No Jake it's not." Confirmed Pol, "We think she might have got involved in a cult"

Sam shifted uncomfortably at the Sheriffs honesty, but Jake just nodded.

"She's always wanted to belong. To be something special" He nodded his head toward Sam, while giving him a sympathetic look. "I'll see what I can do."

"Thanks Jake. See if you can find out what went missing while you're at it too."

Jake just nodded and walked away.

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'_Could this get any more annoying?' _

Dean shifted again, ramming his face further into the corner as he tried to find the space to bring his leg up just a little higher.

He reckoned he had been awake for about ten minutes but who knew how long he had been out for before that. This whole thing was taking too long. He needed to get back to Sam and he needed to do it now. It wasn't that he didn't trust Sam to look after himself……well that wasn't true he didn't but what with Sam's' new and annoying tendency to get possessed at every turn, he had good reason. Besides which getting rescued yet again would just be… embarrassing.

The box creaked ominously as he drew his knee up a little more so his fingers could brush the top of his boots. He was only millimeters away from reaching the slim knife he kept hidden there. Taking a deep breath he pushed a little harder ignoring both the pain in his knee and thin spider web of cracks that were beginning to spread from the corner of the box closest to his head and grabbed the knifes hilt.

Giving himself a moment to catch his breath, he glanced up at the one small corner of the box which was still uncovered. He needed to get a move on; as soon as the box was completely covered breathing was going to become an issue. Using the last of the light he scanned the seams of the box. The pieces of the box had been badly cut and small cracks where already beginning to spread out from the nicks and small fractures the cutting process had left behind, as more and more sand began to press down on him.

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Sam slammed his fist into the side of the police cruiser, needing some outlet for his growing frustration. _'This was taking too long.'_

"Try that one more time kid. I'll haul your scrawny ass over my knee?" Apparently Pol's temper wasn't doing any better than his own, she was just better at hiding it.

"Sorry." He mumbled, more than a little shamefaced.

Then pulling himself together, he squared his shoulders turned to face the Sheriff.

"I need to be out there Pol. If……." His eyes dropped to the floor, his hands clenching spasmodically by his side for a moment before fixing Pol with a determined stare, ready for a fight. "I've got to find him and I think I'm the only one who can."

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Slipping the knife through the crack in the door behind the lock he began to force the lock hinge loose, keeping up his litany of complaints as he did so. No wonder these people needed a pet muse, it didn't look like they were even capable of passing shop without help. For crying out loud had they stuck this thing together with crazy glue?

At least the shoddy workmanship meant that the hinge was coming loose fairly easily but it was still slow going. The light filtering into the box was virtually non-existent now. He supposed that if he just pushed out hard he could probably just break the box but turning the whole thing into a mass of sand powered shrapnel didn't really appeal, not when he still had a chance of getting out the door.

The hinge gave way with an audible pop. Causing Dean to let out a small yell of triumph, the noise quickly died in his throat though when a section of the door broke loose turning the trickle of sand into a deluge.

'_Damn time to get out'. _He informed himself unnecessarily.

Wiping a blood stained hand across his face in utter disgust he added the loss of his favorite T-shirt to the list of things _somebody_ was going to pay for. He tore off a wide strip of material to cover his face, his numb bloody fingers making it difficult to tie the knot.

At least some of his luck was holding. The sudden influx of sand had opened up a small gap at the top of the box. It wasn't much but it was enough.

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The fight never came.

"I know kid. I know." Sighed Pol, She looked deflated. Tired and old "Whoever's game this is, it's you they want to play with."

She had been so determined to protect these boys. To protect this town and now it looked like she was going to fail again.

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Getting up onto the roof of box hadn't been as hard as he had thought, getting to the ladder though had been. His jump had fallen short, resulting a belly flop of such proportions that it would have cleared out your average swimming pool. Another painful experience that his already over taxed body wasn't really in the mood to deal with,

Panicking as the sand once more threatened to engulf him, he thrashed wildly until his brain kicked in and told him to stop trying to stand up and just swim for it.

Oh course since the Winchester were nothing if not lucky he found the ladder on his first attempt. Fighting off the urge to curl into a small ball and just call it a day, as he added a bruised wrist to his growing list of complaints, Dean reached out and grabbed the rail he had just hit.

Concentrating on HAPPY thoughts, which for him currently revolved around creative uses for two gallons of premium and a book of matches, he began to climb. It couldn't have been more than 10 feet to the silos small hatch but it felt like a hundred. By the time he'd got to the top his thoughts of revenge had become slightly more unfocused and seemed to now involve a rabbit Jell-O mold and a pink umbrella,

Which just didn't make any sense, even to him but probably went some way towards explaining how he managed to fall out of the hatch, without actually realizing he had got to it.

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Sam pushed down on the gas and tried to let his instincts guide him.

'_Who was he kidding? Dean was the one with the gut, he did research.'_

'_They were so screwed.'_

The radio on the seat next to him as yet another team reported in their failure to find any trace of his brother. Slamming his fist into the dash he tried to think what he and the Sheriff had missed when they'd mapped out this search. Maybe they had been wrong to focus so much on earth.

'_It couldn't be that complicated? These people wanted him to find Dean. They needed him to find Dean.'_

Continuing to speed down the twisted little road it took a second for his brain to register what his eyes were telling him and another to stand on the breaks. Slamming the car into reverse, he shot back the 100ft to where the small sign stood pressed into the hedge.

"Hanson Dean, Gritting Station"

His jaw dropped stupidly, '_Handsome Dean? You have to be kidding me.'_

Turning into the drive, he began to consider the fact that this wasn't really complicated it was insane.

The gritting station wasn't large. Just and old barn with a couple of silos for filling the gritting trucks, so it didn't take him very long to figure out where he needed to be or why he had to be there fast.

'_No.' _

'_No.' _

'_NO!'_

'_This could not be happening.'_

He gripped the sides of the silos hatch until his knuckles turned white and threatened to pop. His knees smacked into the platforms grated floor as he tried not to throw up.

Dean's blood stained amulet dangled from the latch mocking him with his failure, and he had failed. There was no doubt in his mind of that; his brother would never willingly part with the pendant. Only a small corner of the box was still visible, just enough to show a few bloody streaks as if someone had tried to claw their way out of the sand filled box.

The phone he had been holding hit the floor and skittered off across the floor. He didn't care. Fisting the amulet he let out a howl of pain and rage before slamming his fist into the hard metal of the silos wall not caring about the damage he did to himself. He didn't care about anything. His brother was dead.

Dean groaned as a small inconsiderate part of his brain tried to kick the rest into some form of wakefulness. It wasn't doing very well.

The sound of a second anguished howl did the trick though; it was too familiar to be ignored. Sitting up turned out to be more of a hassle than he would have thought. Perhaps cramming himself into such a tight space hadn't been one of his better ideas, not that he remembered making the decision to crawl in here in the first place. It was way too small a space to ever be considered comfortable.

Crawling out from behind the pipes, he got shakily to his feet and looked around the platform for the source of the noise.

"ssAaaum!?!" Now that didn't sound good, he wasn't even sure it counted as English.

Sam didn't respond, he was too busy trying to pound a dent into the silos wall, to hear anything.

"Sam!" It came out better this time sharp, commanding, and only a little high pitched.

Sam stopped this time. He stood frozen to the spot, the muscles in his back locked up, making him stand ram rod straight. He didn't turn around straight away, he didn't want his hopes to be dashed, but in the end be couldn't not look, so he turned around.

His brother looked terrible, blood and sand coating him like a second skin, but most of all he looked pissed.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Dean yelled.

"Dean?" The name came out as a whisper, almost a prayer.

Deans' demeanor softened slightly, his brother was such a girl sometimes.

"Who did you expect Samantha?" He asked, plastering on his best smirk as he did so. "Did you really think I'd was going to just sit around and wait for you to get off your ass long enough to come and rescue me?"

The tension drained out of Sam and he collapsed back against the silo wall, sliding down until his butt hit the floor.

"No, I guess not." He grinned.

Dean landed in an untidy heap next to him. "Damn right Princess."

"You look like crap."

Sam shifted slightly in order to get a better look at his brother. He really did look like crap, blood and sand coated the side of his face and he seemed to be having trouble focusing. Catching hold of his chin Sam forced him to look up so he could get a better look at the still oozing cut that was hiding just above his hairline.

"They hit you in the head with a brick or something?"

"No." Mumbled Dean, looking more than a little shame faced all of a sudden.

Sam stared at his brother for a moment and the glanced back up at the hatch, as a grin started to spread across his face.

"You fell out the hatch didn't you?" He laughed still holding his brothers chin.

Dean just glared at him, looking about ready to bite his brother is he didn't let go.

Sam let go and held his hands out to his sides, in a consolatory gesture. More than a little afraid that his brother might actually do it, but still….

"Good thing you landed on your head then, anywhere else and you really could have done some damage."

"Ha. Ha" was the flat and thoroughly unimpressed reply.

"So you got captured by a girl?"

The glower deepened.

"Yeah"

"What a bitch?" Supplied Sam, helpfully

Dean's face contorted further and Sam backed up a little, but then a throaty bark of a laugh broke loose from between his brother's parched lips and he slumped back against the wall. "Yeah, what a bitch" he sighed, an easy grin spreading across his grimy face.

Sam grinned and dangled the pendent in front of his brother's face. "Missing something?"

"What?" " How?" he asked stupidly, his hand going to his throat,

'_How had he missed that?'_

Sam smile fondly at his brother and lowered the amulet into his brothers damaged hand before climbing to his feet. "Come on Man. Let's get out of here." He said pulling his brother to his feet as well. "Just let me call, Pol. Let her know we're on our way in."

Sam mentally kicked himself for leaving the radio in the car, before checking his pockets for his phone and then adding that to the list of things he needed to kick himself for.

Dean just gave him an exasperated look and slid back down the wall before collapsing onto his side.

"Wake me up when you find it." '_This was turning into one hell of a day.'_

Sam just rolled his eyes and remembered that Deans phone was stuck in his top pocket. It just hadn't seemed right to leave it at the motel.

The phone barely rang once before it was answered.

"**SAM!"** Sam yanked the phone away from his ear, grimacing.

"HI Pol."

"**You got him? Where are you? What the hell's going on Sam?"**

Sam smiled at the phone for a moment before filling the Sheriff in and was receiving her news in return when a sharp pain made him grasp his left leg.

Pulling the small dart out of his thigh, he stared around stupidly for a moment before his knees gave out.

"Pol..." He managed to gasp out before he hit the floor.

Dean forced his eyes open at the sound of something heavy hitting the ground. He stared at Sam's phone which was currently lying just centimeters from his nose and tried to figure out where the tinny yelling was coming from if the phone was off. Pushing himself up on to his elbow he snagged the phone and shoved into his sand filled pocket, before looking around for Sam.

Sam was out cold his face mashed into the floor, a small stream of drool escaping from between his lips. It was gross but at least it proved he was alive.

Scrambling over to his brother's side he quickly spotted the tranquilizer dart and swore violently under his breath as he scanned his surroundings for its source. His sharp ears quickly picking up the sound of multiple footsteps coming up the stairs, he didn't have long. Scooping up the still yelling phone, he wedged it between his ear and shoulder as he began to search Sam for weapons.

"Pol"

"**Dean. Thank God. What's..."**

He cut her off sharply. "We need back up now."

"**It's on its way. Just hang on son."**

Dropping the phone he mentally discounted the idea of rescue there was no way they would get here in time, and concentrated on heaving Sam over onto his side so he could get at the gun tucked in the back of his jeans.

He never made it that far, as for the second time a sharp pain spread through his arm.

Struggling to stay up right, he blinked the world back into focus, only to find himself staring at a pair of ridiculously pointy shoes.

Taking aim he did what he had been dying to do all day and throw up. As revenge went it wasn't much but right now it was enough.

**Is anyone out there:)**


	8. Gods and Goddesses

**Elements of doubt**

**Chapter 8: Gods and Goddesses**

**Thanks to jp123, Kerri B., supernaturalsammy67,Poppyflake, ukfan101, DeeUnnatural and Heather.**

**I'm glad you guys are still out there and still enjoying the story. I'm nearly finished honest.**

**Silvertayl: Here's the next chapter as ordered.**

**Alena: I hate pointy shoes I can't walk in them, so that revenge was good on so many levels.**

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Dean glowered at his adversary where it sat; mocking him with his continued failure and weighed his options. This wasn't going to be easy, but then what in his life ever was and there was no way he was giving up not with his goal so close at hand.

Sliding forward his focus never waiver as he slid his nearly useless hands either side of the slim neck and squeezed, just enough to prevent any potential movement and brought his teeth down, really to make his move.

Who knew opening a simple bottle of water could be this much hassle without full use of your hands? Gripping the lid firmly with his teeth and tried to get it to turn. It wasn't an easy task.

"Dean?"

Dean jumped at the sudden noise and nearly lost his grip on the bottle. Squeezing hard to try and keep hold of the bottle, he only succeeded in sending a stream of freezing water slamming into his face. He nearly swallowed the cap.

A hand snatches the bottle away from him while another slaps him on the back until he flinches away, waving off the hulking giant that's trying to pound him flat.

"Sam. Just stop it. O.K?" he coughed, still trying to fend off his brothers attempts to help.

Thankfully Sam stopped and he was able to collapse back against the wall to catch his breath.

"How long have you been awake?" asked Sam as he looked around their current prison, it wasn't much more than a small empty cellar. The only light there was filtered in under the rooms' single heavy door.

"Not long. Think I'm getting used to that stuff." Dean didn't sound good.

Tugging his brother into the thin strip of light to get a better look at him, he was relieved that for once Dean didn't try and push him off. He just tipped his head back and closed his eyes, muttering something about pain in the ass little brother and evil bitches which were going to pay.

It was kind of worrying really, but it suited him so he just gripped his brothers' wrists and turned his hands over. All the blisters from earlier had burst and they looked stiff and sore, no wonder Dean had had so much trouble opening that bottle.

Using the remaining water he cleaned them up the best he could. For once Dean kept the bitching to a minimum, only complaining when Sam went to sacrifice the remains of his shredded T-shirt to the cleanup efforts.

"Dude your getting a bit personal here?" He complained, giving his brother a sharp smack to the head.

"This isn't much fun for me either Dude. I've had enough **personal** time with you lately to last a life time."

Glowering at his brother Sam reached out and yanked the soaking rag over Dean's head, nearly taking his brothers ears off in the process.

"I'll tell you what; if you can avoid getting the shit kicked out of you for five minutes straight, I can stop having to patch you back up." He snapped.

"Sam?"

Sam instantly deflated at the hurt and confusion in his brother voice. _'Way to kick a man when he's down.' _He scowled at himself.

"Sorry Man. It's been a long day."

Dean just shrugged, forgiving him as usual, before letting out a strained breath. "No kidding."

"You lost your amulet again." Commented Sam, still feeling the strain between them despite his brothers' forgiveness.

"Yeah." Dean looked pissed and a little hurt, although as usual he was trying to hide that part of his emotions, after all he had a reputation to maintain.

"Don't worry Man we'll get it back." Promised Sam, knowing how much the pendant meant to his brother even if he wouldn't admit it.

Dean just nodded but Sam didn't miss the small grateful smile his brother shot him when he didn't think he was looking.

"Come on man lets get you patched up so we can blow this joint."

Twenty minutes later the two of them were sitting with their backs against the wall catching up. Dean was dressed in his 'little' brother's coat and sported a new set of plaid bandages courtesy of Sam's shirt sleeve. He reached up to scratch his nose only to find himself unable to do so. He was feeling more than a little disgruntled.

"Want me to roll up the sleeves for you?" Offered Sam, a little too sweetly

Deans scowl notched itself up a few points, causing Sam to laugh harder.

Apparently the patented Winchester death stare wasn't working very well today

"Yeti"

"It's not my fault you're short."

"Freak"

"Seriously man you O.K?"

"Tijuana"

"Well that was random." Sam reached over and tried feel his brother's forehead, knowing full well that he was just trying to duck the question. "Sure you didn't knock something loose up there?"

Dean tried to slap his hand away but came up short when his bandaged hand got caught in his sleeve.

"No." O.K maybe he did have a fever because as far as diversions went that one really blew. "We should go there."

"Your right you'd have to have something up there in the first place to knock it loose. After all this you want to go to the beach?"

"What? It got me thinking."

"Nearly drowning in sand made you want to go to the beach. Dude, that's warped."

"Dude I wasn't thinking about the beach."

"At least we know one of your brains is working." Sam laughed, getting up to search the room as he did so.

It didn't take long. The door was barred from the outside and room itself was nothing more than a bare concrete box. Patting down his pockets, he just confirmed what he already knew. They had been turned inside out.

"You got anything?" He asked his brother out of habit.

"Boot" Replied Dean, waving his right foot at his brother. His head was killing him and he wasn't really in the mood for a prolonged conversation.

Sam gripped the boot and pulled it off. Checking the inside he, he pulled the thin stiletto knife out, with a grin.

"There should be a pick in the heel as well."

Sam's eyebrows shot up into his hairline. He always knew his brother was a little paranoid but this was taking be preparedness to a whole other level.

"Since when have you been carrying all this stuff?"

"Since people started cuffing me to things all the time."

"Anything else?" he asked

Dean shifted uncomfortable and emptied out his sweat pants pockets, a long stream of sand fell out followed by his phone.

Sam gave his brother an incredulous look, his eyes literally popping out of his head. "Dean? How the hell did you get to keep all this stuff?"

Dean shrugged, a small smirk gracing his lips. "I may have thrown up on the Queen Bitches shoes."

"Oh man" Grinned Sam, picturing the scene inside his head.

His brother didn't make the most appealing of sights at the moment, add vomit into the equation and he couldn't imagine any of those sorority girls wanting to get within 10ft of him.

Sam flipped open the small phone and began to check the room for reception. It seemed their luck was still holding and as usual it was all bad.

He returned the phone and pick to his brother, but kept the knife for himself. For once his brother didn't protest, even he knew he was in no condition for a fight.

"So did Pol have anything new to say?" Dean asked his brother as Sam continued his futile exploration of their cell.

"Some, Looks like they've got hold of a challis and a dagger from the temple of Apollo at Delphi, which were used as part of sacrificial rights used to petition the muses."

Dean snorted. "Dude these guys are doing a lot more than petitioning."

"Yeah, that's part of what I don't get. I always thought the muses were more into inspiration than action. So either they're getting something big out of this or someone's found a way to control them."

"I doubt anyone could control them for long. For all their free love crap, they really don't like being challenged."

"No kidding. They plucked the Sirens and made crowns out of their feathers for daring to say they could sing better than them and they were their own daughters."

"Sweet"

"No kidding"

"There's another option." Dean licked his dry lips, feeling uncomfortable. "Some of those old rituals are pretty complicated. You mess with stuff that old and powerful stuff, you don't always get what you ask for."

"You think, they pulled up something else entirely and they're just being played?"

"Could be" Dean shrugged, not wanting to commit.

"Yeah, I guess, but this does fit pretty well." Sam started pacing as he thought. "The muses were often associated with Hero-cults, particularly cults of Apollo, all of which would fit with the testing and the type of person they seem to be looking for."

"They really have a thing for that dude, don't they"

Sam stopped and chewed at his thumb for a moment, deep in thought. "Dean you don't think they're trying to bring him through do you?"

His brother never got the chance to answer as the sound of heels clicking on stone, alerted them to their captors approach. Exchanging a look Sam retook his seat next to his brother, now wasn't the time for an escape attempt, there was too much they didn't know.

Dean slumped next to him letting his eyes close. Right now they needed whatever advantages they could find and the worse off these people thought he was the bigger one he would have.

Sam fell into step with his brothers' plan without giving it a conscious thought. It felt good to be back in sync after so many weeks butting heads.

The door flew open with a bang and Eileen strode in, two other girls flanking her. Sam recognized them both from that first day by the river. The taller of the two held Sam's gun as if it was some kind of venomous snake. Sam shifted uncomfortably and elbowed Dean in the ribs to let him know to be on his guard, because in his experience guns and jumpy school girls didn't mix well.

Pulling himself and Dean to their feet and squaring off against Eileen, he waited for her to make the first move. He was feeling more than a little confrontational. No one messed with his brother.

Dean observed the scene from beneath hooded lids from his position next to Sam, trying to remain outwardly impassive as he did so. It wasn't easy, even with his best intentions a smirk threatened to spread across his face as he took in Eileen's ugly trainers, they really didn't go with the outfit.

"Nice shoes." He muttered, as so often in the past his mouth getting the better of him.

It was the wrong thing to say.

Eileen strode forward her face livid, causing the girl with the gun to flinch. The gun wavered off it target for just a moment but it was enough.

Sam surged forward intent on disarming her, only to thrown into the wall as an unseen force slammed into him. He saw stars and it felt like a truck had parked on his chest.

Dean's eyes went wide, at the sight of his brother hitting the wall. They had been in this situation before and it never went well for them.

Eileen's hand fisted in his jacket, lifting him easily off the ground, her eyes flashing silver as she did so.

Sam gapped, the sight of his brother casually suspended in mid air by a 75lb blond girl, was one of the stranger images from an already strange life, but the thing that made him gape was the sight of the brand on her arm. He had seen it before in fact he had one of his own.

The thing possessing Eileen turned her head to face Sam. "You will do as I say or this one will die." She turned back to Dean and slammed him into the wall, to emphasize her point. "And you will remain quite."

She dropped them both at the same time, stepping back towards the door. The two other girls backed away from her, their faces a strange mixture of fear and awe.

Clambering painfully to their feet the brothers exchanged a quick look before, following her out of the door. The two girls bringing up the rear like a pair of faithful dogs.

They were lead out into a large cavern and pushed to their knees just inside the door.

"Her shoes" Hissed Sam once Eileen was out of ear shot, didn't his brother know any better.

Dean just shrugged, as unrepentant as always. "Wow. It's the set from Count Humpula"

He commented, amused, as he continued to stare around him.

Sam rolled his eyes he didn't know the film but then he didn't really need to, did he? It was like IKEA had hurled or the Pottery barn had brought out a Satan collection. Black candles mixed with red satin throws and garish Greek statues of Apollo.

"Is that a black light?" He asked.

"Of course how else would you pull off the glow-ie Goth feel?" Smirked Dean, before breaking down into a fit of uncontrolled coughing, it didn't stop him speaking for long though.

"Dude if they want to play host to this Apollo guy. Does that mean you're going to have to dress like him?

Sick or not Sam hit him, cause none of the statues were wearing anything.

"Dean, Pay attention would you?" He growled. "Look at the Altar. Does that look right to you?"

The Alter was of your typical Hollywood variety but the symbols decorating it were a strange mix of Greek, Latin and Pagan. If they had managed to pull this off right it would have been by pure fluke.

"Armatures" scoffed Dean. "You got a love'em"

"Silence" Eileen's eyes flashed silver again as she spoke, the anger evident in her voice.

She had emerged from a side chamber dress in a flowing white toga; it matched in perfectly with the rest of the décor.

Sam hit his brother before he could make any comment. They were in enough trouble already.

Facing Sam she addressed the room, which was now filled with a dozen young women all dressed in a similar manner.

"You have passed the trials set out for you and been judged worthy."

"Hrm..Hum." Dean coughed almost politely, and raised his hand as if he was back in school.

"What?" Snapped Eileen, clearly irritate

"The last one was definitely self rescue." Turning to Sam he continued. "No offence Sammy but you really blew that one."

Sam gave him an evil look, trying to get him to shut up. _Why did Dean always have to piss off the bad guys?_

"Plus last time I check there were four elements and you only tried to kill me three times. That's just cheating."

"It will suffice. We have found out Apollo."

If looks could kill, and with her he wasn't really sure they couldn't, he would have already been spit roasted. Still he couldn't stop know he needed her attention on him and off Sammy.

"Man, you really picked the wrong brother." He forced out a laugh. "I mean Sammy, Apollo? He gets self conscious in shorts."

Now Sam was giving him the death glare too.

"Are you volunteering?" A hint of amusement had crept into the creatures' voice.

"Hey, I'm always ready to please the ladies and I never disappoint." He offered, giving her his best cocky smile.

The creature that had once been Eileen laughed scornfully. "Do you think you are worthy?" She asked him. "Do you think you could _**ever**_be worthy?"

Sam winced at the hurt that flashed through his brothers eyes, it was gone in an instant of course, Dean was a master at hiding his emotions. He opened mouth to reply, only to be cut off.

"Enough." An invisible force constricted his throat and forced him immobile. He could barely breathe.

"Your death will be the means by which we will bind our God to your brother." She promised him. Turning to her followers she commanded. "Prepare the sacrifice."


	9. Attack of the Prom Queens

**Chapter 9: Attack of the Prom Queens**

**Disclaimer: Don't own them just play with them.**

**I did want to get this out sooner but life got in the way, plus my brain had an unexpected meltdown. **

**Alena, Poppyflake and Tacpebs: You guys are right he really doesn't know when to shut up does he?**

**Anyway hope you had a good holiday Alena (I could really do with one myself) and Tacpeds you're feeling less phlegmy. Hopefully supernaturalsammy67 survived the great British earthquake (it woke my Mum up in Manchester) and is still around. Thanks JP123 and Deangirl1 I hope you approve of the next chapter…..I kind of got a bit stuck on it.**

**Cheers**

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"Your death will be the means by which we will bind our God to your brother." She promised him. Turning to her followers she commanded. "Prepare the sacrifice."

"Eileen! You don't have to do this. I'll do whatever you say just let him go?" begged Sam.

Dean managed a faint squeak of protest but his vision was already graying out and the only thing keeping him up right was the invisible force currently crushing the life out of him, not that he was going to let any of that stop him protecting his brother.

Sam glared at his brother. '_Why did the stubborn idiot always have to piss off the bad guys?' _

Dean just glared back his gaze becoming more and more unfocused by the second but Sam still dropped his gaze first. He new exactly why his brother was drawing so much attention to himself and if Dean thought he would do anything less for him, he had another thing coming. "Just tell me what to do."

Eileen's thin lips twitched in amusement, her eyes cruel and calculating.

With a dismissive flick of her wrist she withdrew her power, dropping Dean to the floor.

Everything inside of Sam screamed for him to rush to his brothers' side but he stayed in place meeting Eileen's eyes with a steady gaze, keeping her focus solely on him. Dean wasn't the only one who could play this game.

Dean took in a few gasping breaths and shifted slightly so he wasn't resting his entire weight on his nose, it was hard enough to breathe as it was. Opening his eyes he located his two brothers and gave the closest one a weak "thumbs up."

Sam let out the breath he didn't even know he was holding as his brother began to stir, giving him a patented Dean Winchester smirk. Now if he'd only been looking at him, it might have been believable.

Shooting his brother a brief uncertain grin he returned his gaze to Eileen, trying to look strong and un-afraid.

Her cold stare reminded him of the boys who used to pull the wings off flies in elementary school.

"Watch" She commanded.

A high pitched scream cut through the air as a young woman was dragged into the chamber and forced to her knees infront of her.

The girl was terrified, her brown eyes rolling in her head, her breathing coming in ragged sobs.

Sam's mind was torn between relief that this wasn't happening to his brother and shock that it was happening at all. Tearing his eyes away he searched out his brother knowing what was going to happen next and unable to prevent it.

Dean began to push himself to his knees at the sound to the girls scream, duty and rage enough to put fire back into his limbs. He wasn't going to let this happen.

He never even made it off his knees.

"Dean!" Sam yelled, the desperation in his voice evident, when is brother collapsed like a puppet with its strings cut. Eileen hadn't even looked at him.

Panicked he tried to go to his brother but he found he couldn't move. Opening his mouth to deliver a venomous remark worthy of Dean himself he found his tongue stilled in his head. Then just when he thought he couldn't get anymore freaked out his head turned against his will to face the creature Eileen, he couldn't even flinch in protest.

Eileens focus remained on the girl cowering in front of her; she gave no sign of even noticing the attempted attack.

"You have betrayed your sisters Hillary and failed your god" She informed her victim, playing with the tassel of her robe like a cat toying with a piece of string. "Have I not been merciful? I gave you a great honour and the chance to atone for past transgressions by taking charge of the third of the sacred trial. I had even placed this one into your hands personally." She gestured towards Dean.

Sam watched it all with a sick sort of fascination; so this was Hilly Ashton, the girl Jake had cared too much about. She was also the girl who had plotted to kill his brother, who was responsible for so many of his injuries. He was furious with her and would happily support any Karmic retribution that happened to come her way but he couldn't bring himself to want her dead. He just didn't know how he could save her.

In the end though it wasn't left to Sam to save the day as always that was Deans' job.

The only warning that Dean was about to make his move; was a flicker in the corner of Sam's eye, but after years of dealing with his brother's self sacrificing "Hero complex", it was more than Sam needed and it didn't hurt that he was the only one looking for it either.

'_Perhaps,'_ Sam considered, _'having rocks in your head just means it harder to dent because he had no idea how his brother was still alive never mind moving after the last couple of days. His brother was one though S.O.B.'_

As attacks went it was kind of pathetic, just a kick to the back of the knee but it sure had a big affect. Sam didn't know if Eileen let him go due to shock or single minded fury as she hit the floor, but by the time she'd gotten to her feet and was advancing on Dean, only her fury was evident.

Pulling the knife from his boot, he lunged forward making the only attack he could think of that might have any affect.

The knife sliced across the binding symbol on Eileen's arm in a single move, cutting deep and sure.

Eileen screamed expelling her rage along with creature that inhabited her. Liquid tendrils of blackest night spewed forth, more intent in there actions than any billowing fog ever expelled by some poor demon possessed soul at the end of an exorcism.

Sam stumbled back, searching for his brother as the gaseous creature began to snuff the candles out with slow deliberation.

"You Okay?" He yelled trying to make himself heard over the screams of Eileen's terrified followers.

"Peachy" mouthed Dean, not even bothering to try and compete with the deafening roar. The cavern was beginning to rival amateur night at a thrash metal bar, or maybe a Black Sabbath concert, he could really see Eileen biting the head off a chicken.

"Where's the girl?" Mouthed back Sam, between the eerie glow of the black lights and the writhing mass of noxious gas that was rapidly filling the cavern, one screaming toga clad prom queen pretty much looked like any other screaming toga clad prom queen.

He grinned when his brother didn't let him down, Dean was better than a blood hound when it came to keeping track of a pretty girl. Grabbing his brother's sleeve, the two of them ran after Hilly only to lose her when the black light over their heads exploded showering them with thousand of superheated shards, as the whole cavern started to shake. Ducking into the nearest tunnel Sam swore, just for once it would be nice for someone they rescued to return the favor and at least show them the way out.

Looking back at Eileen, Sam gasped in shock right along with his brother, as the black tendrils deliberately reversed direction and started pouring back into the girl. "That can _**N0T**_ be good." He yelled at his brother, pulling them both further into the tunnel.

Turning they ran, there was nothing else they could do. Sam's hand came up to wrap its self in the back of his brother's jacket, when his brother started to do an impression of a human pinball; he was barely staying up right. They stumbled on pushing through the oppressive darkness, as the walls turned from smooth to rough and the floor started to rise up to trip them at the most unexpected times.

It was becoming harder and harder for Dean to keep his feet, his head was pounding and he couldn't name a single part of him that wasn't currently screaming in protest, the noise in his head was deafening. _'Things really couldn't get any worse.' _

Next to him Sam stumbled on the uneven ground, pitching forward he instinctively push off his brother in attempt to regain his balance but only succeeded in throwing him to the ground too.

Two thoughts ran simultaneously through Dean's head as his knees hit the ground; the first one being that he was going to kill Sam, the second was less pleasant. Freezing water was leaching its way up his body, the shock of it threatening to shut his already labored breathing down all together.

Forcing himself to concentrate Dean fumbled Sam's phone out of his pocket and flicked it open. The dim light wasn't even enough to illuminate all of Sam… just his shoes, which were dry. "What the hell Sam" He tried to complain but it was becoming increasingly difficult to push words out past the lump in his throat, so it came out more of an indignant grunt, but at least it got Sam moving.

Sam waded in to retrieve his downed brother, resisting the urge to laugh at the death glare which Dean was currently throwing in his general direction, he looked like a freshly landed fish. The water currently oozing its way into Sam socks as he pulled his brother up was cold but warmer than he would expect from an underground stream, it must have come from the surface.

"Looks like our luck finally changed." He grinned at his wheezing brother, only to have him hit him hard in the back of the head. "What?" Complained Sam before realizing what he had just done. It had been an unwritten rule between the two of them for as long as he could remember that you didn't tempt the fates, the Gods had enough fun playing with the Winchesters without giving them any extra help; and that was before they had an _actual_ Goddess on their tale.

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Sheriff Sam Politska wasn't in the best of moods… and her Deputies knew it, not that any of them were feeling any better. They weren't set up for this; their last big case before this whole mess was trying to figure how the High School Seniors had managed to get the principles car into his office. The only person who had any real forensics training was the Sheriff and that was just the left over remnants of a life she no longer wanted to remember.

She had been tracking Sams cell phone from the moment she had let him out of her sight and had had moved her men to strategic points around the area, far enough way so as not to spook either Sam or the kidnappers but close enough to be of help if the need arose. So when it did it had taken them barely 5 minutes to arrive, but even that had been to long, there had been no sign of anyone and no body had passed her people on the way out. It was a mystery, one she was determined to solve.

They had drained the silo shortly after they had arrived and what she had seen there made her even madder than she had been in twenty years, she hated to think of the kid going through that.

Hank the oldest of her Deputies, jogged up behind her. "We found traces of wauding exactly where you said, they definitely used a tranquilizer gun. Oh and Janet called in, they're still not picking up anything on the missing cell."

Sam got to her feet and ran a hand through her graying hair. These boys were going to be the death of her yet. "Thanks Hank. Can you get Nick to run the trace over to Sisco at County? Tell him he can get examples of the boy's prints from the ones we pulled from their room and blood samples from Doc Shaw, both of those boys have bled enough around his place lately. Anything that doesn't match I need run through CODIS, and I'll need a full Tox screen on the blood we collected from the hatch."

Sam leaned back against the railing as she took one last look over the scene before her hoping to find anything she had missed, anything that would give her a clue to what the boys had got themselves into now. Pushing her hands deep into her pockets, her fingers brushed cool metal. Pulling out the pendant she ran the cord through her fingers a couple of times as she continued to think. A quote had been running through her head all day _'Those who do not remember the past are doomed to repeat it._' So much was reminding her of the past these days, but no matter what she did she still seemed doomed to repeat it.

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Sam propped Dean up against the wall, as he tried to deal with their latest problem. He'd been right; the stream did lead to the surface, or at least it would have if they were a rat or a particularly small midget. He could see daylight but the hole was way too small for either of them to fit through. He pushed at the rock around the hole hoping to find something he could pull loose and widen the hole but it was solid rock.

Dean had slumped to his side and was watching him with an intent gaze. "Sorry Bro it doesn't look like we're getting out this way." He apologized. Crouching down by his brother's side, he took advantage of the weak light filtering in from the surface to give Dean a quick once over. He looked terrible but that had pretty much become his brothers default look these days. It was the wheezing that had really got him worried, the older Winchester just couldn't seem to catch his breath.

"Dean tilt your head back for me, I need to get a look at your throat." His brother had his chin down against his chest and he wasn't too happy about the prospect of moving; he was having enough trouble breathing as it was. "Come on Dude, it's just for a minute." cajoled Sam, sounding worried. So as usual Dean relented, little brothers were a pain in the ass.

Sam hissed in sympathy as he took in the bruising, brushing a gentle finger down his brothers throat it was easy to feel the swelling even with the distraction of Dean making his opinion on the invasion of his personal known by taking a swipe at the younger man's head.

When Sam pushed up his chin Deans vision started to blur again, it hurt to breath. He struck out to try and get him to stop but the effort was to much, causing him to pass out momentarily. When he came to Sam was right up into his face clearly panicking.

"Talk to me Man" Demanded Sam, forcing his dazed brother to look at him. Dean blinked a couple of times, fighting to keep from passing out again as he fought to bring his breathing back under control. Although he still managed to shoot his brother a look which clearly conveyed _'Dude, does it look like I can talk right know?' _at that comment.

Sam smiled despite his worry; Dean never did have a problem getting his point across. "Well at least something's going in our favor for a change."

His brothers' look took on a slightly feral edge; he clearly wasn't happy.

"Dude, I just saying not pissing off the Bad guys for once might actually be a good thing?"

Dean shot him another look, and throw in a couple of gestures for good measure.

'_O.K'_, thought Sam, _'that really didn't need any translating.' _Throwing up his hands in mock regret, he backed off a little, pulling off what was left of his over shirt as he did so. Turning back to the stream he ripped off the sleeve and soaked it in the cold water for a moment before turning back to his brother. Dean's chin had dropped back to his chest and his eyes were closed, he looked like he had fallen asleep. Sam reached out and lifted his brother's chin slightly, intent on applying the cold compress.

Dean's foggy mind took a moment to register the attack, as pain once more shot through his throat, he counter attacked instinctively and bit down hard on the hand holding his face.

Sam yelped in pain as his brother's teeth cut into the sensitive flesh between his thumb and fingers. He struck out hard hitting the elder Winchester in the shoulder, forgetting for a moment in his pain the healing bullet wound located there, his brother only clamped down harder in response.

"Dean! For Gods sake let go!" He yelled, momentarily forgetting the need to be quiet.

The pain in his bothers voice was enough to cut through the haze inside Dean's head and he let go. Sam yanked his hand away and pulled it tight into his chest, giving his brother a reproachful glare as he did so. "Man that hurt!" Sam complained. Dean blinked owlishly at him a couple of times and then shrugged, totally unapologetic.

Disgruntled, Sam reluctantly regained his composure for once choosing to be the bigger man and just focus on the job at hand. "Dean we need to get this compress on your throat, it will help with the swelling." This time Sam waited until his brother gave him a slight nod, before approaching him; he had learnt his lesson.

The compress helped, even if Dean didn't want to admit it and found himself able to focus for the first time in what seemed like hours. Sam was standing by the hole to the surface trying not to get to wet as he searched for a signal. If nothing else his brother was one stubborn bastard, he wasn't going to give up.

Sam scowled at the phone, he was picking up one flickering bar which disappeared whenever he got the phone anywhere is head. He'd already tried the Sheriff twice only to have it cut out before it even connected. Changing tactics he typed out a quick text message and held the phone as far up into the hole as he could before sending it. It took a moment but to Sam's relief it actually sent. Grinning he headed back to his brother.

"I got a message through to Bobby; I gave him the Sheriffs number and told him to contact her." Sam smiled as his brothers eyes lit up, Bobby always came through for them and more importantly they trusted him with their lives. It was just a shame that Dean wasn't going to like the rest of what he had to say quite so much. "I'm going to head back out, draw them off for a bit. Give the others time to bail us out." Dean shook his head violently, adamant that this wasn't going to happen. "We need information," insisted Sam, "we have no idea what that fiasco with Eileen did to the state of play. We could be sitting here for no reason," he didn't believed that, and neither did Dean; it was much more likely that they has just pissed off the big bad….even more, "I'll be careful Bro but I need to go."

The two of them sat in silence for a moment. They both knew why Sam really wanted to go. Dean wasn't doing too well and they both knew it. The elder Winchester nodded slowly, not in the least bit happy but he new he couldn't stop Sam anymore than Sam could have stopped him if their positions were reversed.

"I won't be long.", promised Sam. His brother just nodded looking visibly upset, which was unusual for the elder Winchester to say the least. Sam sighed, Dean hated being sidelined, it made him feel helpless, which was something his brother had never dealt with very well. Thinking fast he handed the phone back to Dean. "Text works if you get close enough to the hole. See if you can get Bobby up to date." It wasn't much, but it was something.

Getting up he headed back down the stream a little way before turning back to his brother giving him a small smirk. "Dean." His brother looked up to meet his gaze. "If they attack just… bite them O.K?" His brother just rolled his eyes, but returned the smirk.

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Bobby Singer reached down and scratched Brutus behind the ear. As a guard dog the mutt was a complete waste of space, it was dumb as post and despite outward appearances the giant Pit-bull was about as tough as a marshmallow, but he couldn't bring himself to get rid of him. He'd always had a soft spot for strays. Jim had always said '_God watches over children and fools'_, he wasn't sure where animals fit in but a dog that got its ass kicked by a 2 lb kitten had to come in there somewhere. Off to his side phone buzzed once to let him know he had a message but he ignored it reaching for the peroxide instead. "Come on boy, let's get you cleaned up." Pouring the peroxide onto some gauze he cleaned off the whimpering dog's muzzle. "Nice try mutt", growled Bobby, as Brutus did his best to look even more pathetic "but it works better without the tail."

Finishing up he heaved the dog off the table, giving the animal an affectionate cuff as he did so. "Now gitt", he ordered the dog, "and next time… pick a fight you can win." The dog trotted off, tail still wagging.

Walking over to the fridge he pulled out a beer and popped the cap, before picking up the phone. He let out a harassed sigh when he saw the name, _'Speaking of strays, what have those two idiots got themselves into this time, it hadn't even been a week since the last mess they had dropped on his door. Maybe Brutus wasn't the only one who needed to learn to pick their fights.'_

He opened the message and felt his eyebrows start making their way up into his hairline. It was short particularly by Sam's standards, just a number and two words 'Trust her'. '_This couldn't be good.'_

Taking a long pull from the beer, to try and settle the bad feeling that was setting up shop in the pit of his stomach, he set the phone ringing, not entirely sure what he was going to find on the other end.

**Questions? Comments? HELP!**


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